The Last Sniper
by tehepicwin
Summary: In Remnant, the individual Atlas soldier is nigh worthless, and huntsmen are ever more apparently the new standard. Flint, an ex-military sniper of no chivalry, and his team of Atlas-sanctioned assassins go on a wild chase after a serial killer. OC. On short hiatus because uni sucks.
1. Chapter 1: Deliverance

Chapter 1: Deliverance

The Atlas cityscape rises far into the night sky, its lights of life visible to any ship passing by. The government's war on individuality just a few decades earlier speaks nothing of its citizens now; Atlas citizens have put their intelligence towards beautiful and massive forms of expression. The skyscrapers are their thrones, the neon "Welcome!" signs their paintings, and the nightclubs show that they, at least to some extent, are like everyone else.

This is at least the case if you live in the richer areas of the kingdom. The division in wealthy and poor is like a fault line. Right beside one of the wealthiest areas in Atlas, the Skyview Hills, is a ghost town, to which a name exists but none remember. Skyview Gardens is a restaurant on the edge of Skyview Hills. Although its food is excellent, it has the misfortune of a terrible view after people abandoned the nearby area. From Skyview Gardens, you can see that the ghost town may not be a ghost town yet: One factory complex, walled on all four sides, contains a well-lit trailer in which four men are just beginning a match of medium-stakes poker. A good two kilometres away from the factory complex, yet still in the ghost town, is an abandoned apartment building. In the top floor of this building are two men, lying down and clothed in black cloaks.

One of whom holds a massive bolt action rifle.

Flint, the man with the rifle, glances at his partner, Gecko. Flint asks, "Have you finished setup?"

Gecko gives a small nod. By their sides is an array of equipment deemed necessary for their work. A compact machine labelled with steel letters as the "Bullet Compositor" has three sliders colour coded as blue, red, and yellow. Each slider links directly and neatly to an appropriately coloured tube, each tube bearing a snowflake insignia. The entire contraption culminates in a bullet-shaped mould. Fortunately for the men in the poker game, the Bullet Compositor is currently offline. The Bullet Compositor lies outside a large case, a case also meant for the folding components of the Deliverance rifle. A few gadgets have been taken out of the case as well, namely an anemometer and a rangefinder, both of which are in Gecko's hands. The last thing of note is the Atlas government's seal on the case, although the seal has been scratched out.

Directly in front of the two men is a photo. A full-length portrait of a man with not a single detail missed: The shadows in the creases of his hazel eyes, the slightest inconsistencies on his grey hairline, the scratches on the backs of his leather gloves, the slight weight bias on his left combat boot, the wear on his robe, and the hybrid gun-sword on his back. They are all there. The photo contains a caption which states, "Huntsman suspected of smuggling weapons from Mistral. Likes to play poker on Saturday nights in a factory hideout near Skyview Gardens." Beside the photo is a match.

Through their earpieces, Flint and Gecko hear another one of their partners—Storm—say, "If you guys are about to 'party,' Maverick and I are gonna pay the bill." Storm and Maverick, the last two members of the team, are just about done their stay at Skyview Gardens. The teammates communicate through miniature radios on their collars. Flint, the sniper, and Gecko, the spotter, could definitely handle the assassination on their own, but where there's gun smuggling there's guns, and guns are money. Storm's idea. Maverick goes along with the team because this Saturday night just happens to be free for him.

Gecko says, "As long as you don't get in the way. You might be waiting for a while, though, because I just heard from command that we may have a complication." Gecko pauses, as if asking Flint to interject, but Flint does no such thing. Gecko continues, "One of the men he is playing with is an undercover agent. The police refuse to tell us which one it is, but if we kill him by accident we're finished."

Flint says, "So?"

"It means I can't just give you a 90% flame dust round and have you blow up the entire trailer, because the undercover agent will die."

"Not an issue. We can go for a bit more ice dust than usual, and pierce the target rather than blow him up."

"That's the problem. Command suffers from an ice dust shortage, so we have to go for a flame dust shot."

Flint zooms his scope, looking so far into the trailer that it seems like he's actually there. The poker game is one with chips, and the four men have roughly equal stacks. Flint says, "If we get the target by himself, we can just blow him up with a flame round. It's also possible that if the undercover agent leaves the trailer, we can blow up all of the men anyway. I assume there's no problem if we kill everyone besides the undercover agent?"

Gecko says, "Positive, although I doubt we can figure out who the undercover agent is."

Flint looks around some more. Two of the four men have handguns, one of them a magnum and the other much more reasonably sized. Looking at the remaining two men, Flint says hurriedly, "Hold on a second! Does the target have a twin or something?" Gecko looks at Flint with confusion before looking at the trailer through his binoculars. "Yeah," Flint continues, "great luck for us, the target has an identically dressed twin. I'm not sure we could ever figure out which one of them is the real guy. Screw getting the target alone. And killing both twins without nailing the undercover agent is too difficult."

"That's ridiculous. Should we call it off?"

"No, we just have to figure out who the undercover agent is."

They wait in silence for about half an hour, staring at the men. The poker chips are still distributed roughly equally. The silence breaks when Storm says, "I'm in the alleyway behind them. You guys planning on shooting or what?"

Although quiet, they could hear Maverick mutter, "Idiot." However, mutters are still louder than silence, so it blares into their ears. "By the way," he says, "I'm going to go home. Bye." Maverick disconnects from them.

Storm says, "Ah, the joy of the party."

With that, silence returns. In the meanwhile, Gecko turns on the Bullet Compositor. He switches the blue slider to 10%, the red slider to 40%, and the yellow slider to 50%. Gecko inserts a metal casing into the bullet mould, and a very faint whir emanates from the Bullet Compositor. The mould fills up steadily, until finally the bullet takes complete shape in front of the bullet case: An icy tip, a glowing red body, a yellow of faint electric current, and a metallic rear filled to the brim with initial propellant.

Gecko gives the cartridge to Flint and says, "10% ice should protect the flame dust from combusting mid-air. 40% flame is enough payload to blow up that trailer. 50% lightning should maintain enough velocity to eliminate all bullet drop at 2 kilometres."

The Deliverance rifle, as a breech loader, could have the cartridge loaded directly in. However, subsequent shots are out of the question; Gecko does not even bother making a second round for Flint. Flint loads the bullet and says, "At this rate, Storm will have to sit in the alley until sunrise."

Gecko says, "Too bad we can't clearly see the wear on the target's clothing. We could identify him based on that."

Flint says, "Now that you mention it, the undercover agent might have something that only a cop would. Any ideas?"

"The undercover agent can't possibly be a huntsman graduate. No graduate ever joins the police force."

"Well, the target and his twin are both huntsmen, telling by their identical longswords. The other two both have pistols, which are standard issue in the police force. Doesn't tell us anything."

"Yeah, they both have handguns. Wait, your scope is better than my binoculars. Can you see any differences?"

Flint pauses for a moment and answers, "One of them is bigger than the other."

Gecko lets out a grunt and says, "Could have told me earlier, Flint. Dust magnums are currently class 3 prohibited weapons, because they can detonate like bombs. No undercover agent would ever carry one. They could get away with holding a small caliber pistol, but the higher-ups would never allow an agent to carry a class 3 weapon."

"Looks like I need to look up weapons laws."

"No, you just need to look up something other than shooting people."

Their plan is now clear: Wait until the undercover agent leaves the trailer, and then light the remaining three men up. Just another hour later, the opportunity presents itself.

Flint says, "He's out of the trailer. Find out the wind speed."

The undercover agent has just gotten out of the trailer, cigarette in hand. He walks a short distance away before trying to light it, but fortunately he struggles with his lighter.

"Damn it, damn it." Gecko mutters as he scrambles to determine the wind direction and speed using his anemometer. The agent manages to light the cigarette and puffs out a cloud of smoke.

Another twenty seconds, tops.

Gecko says, "Fifteen kilometres an hour towards 300 degrees. Adjust your scope counterclockwise by 3.3."

Ten seconds left. The agent seems nearly satisfied, a good smoke to round out the midpoint of an intense poker night. Flint hurriedly adjusts his scope by half, one, one and a half degrees. The agent, content with smoking half of the cigarette, strolls back towards the trailer. Flint has fully adjusted his scope. He aims into the centre of the poker table and places his finger on the trigger of Deliverance.

Imagine, as a young boy, hearing of all of the amazing things huntsmen have done for Atlas. As an athletic child with a sense of justice, you would know your life's path.

Imagine, upon reaching your second year, that your kind wasn't welcome anymore; Dedicated snipers have no chivalry or honour, they say. You aren't wanted at the academy anymore.

Imagine, as you join the Atlas military, that you have finally found your place. A team of four. Aiding Mistral in secret, Atlas military eliminates barbarians in the Mistral wilderness. Unfortunately, huntsmen are taking over your role now, and individual soldiers are now nothing more than cannon fodder.

Being accepted into secret service? Now, that's a godsend. The military may be losing its honour. The huntsmen may become the new national pride. Shooting national threats, civilian or huntsman, is a prideless undertaking, but in the end...

"...I'm the one who gets to kill you."

Flint squeezes the trigger. The Deliverance sucks up the atmosphere in a joyous wind. With a high-pitched pulse, the dust propellant explodes, releasing the pressurized air back into the surroundings, and launches the bullet through the air. The yellow streak bolts towards the trailer, a faint blue dust also in the mix. The wind slightly curves the bullet's path, giving the yellow streak the appearance of a crescent moon.

Crack! The bullet keeps going, just another short distance to go. There is a small amount of ice dust left, barely enough to protect the bullet as it smashes through the trailer window. There is naught left but a 20 gram rod of flame dust as the bullet strikes the full house, the undercover agent just a few steps away from the entrance of the trailer.

Not a moment after the impact do Flint and Gecko scurry to pack up their equipment. The conclusion is obvious without even looking: The trailer incinerated, three men dead. However, secret service doesn't protect you if you get caught by the police force, owing to political stink, so their own lives are at stake. Flint folds the stock, folds the barrel, and detaches the scope. Gecko lights the match and burns the photo. Gecko shuts off the Bullet Compositor, stows it away into the case as Flint stows the folded Deliverance as well. The pair also shove their cloaks into the case, with only casual clothes left on their bodies. With that, all they have to do is flee into the night.

Meanwhile, Storm says, "By the way guys, I got bored, so I'm hanging out with Mav. See ya."

All in a night's work. However, as Flint and Gecko flee the scene, Gecko receives a phone call from a private caller. He answers it as they run.

"So you guys finally leaving? We just compensated you for the stuff you bought, y'know. Anyway, if you four boys watched the news, you would know all about the serial killer on the loose. Meet me tomorrow noon at my office. See you later!"

Their work is never done.


	2. Chapter 2: Military Daze

Chapter 2: Military Daze

Whir-Boom! Crack! The Deliverance sends a 50% ice round into the chieftain's head.

"Kill confirmed," says Storm.

"Confirmed on our side too," says Gecko. "Light the rest up."

"Roger that," says Maverick.

The four have been in the military for about five years. It is currently spring in the Mistral wilderness—Perfect weather for hunting barbarians. The team centres around Flint's ability with the Deliverance: Flint, the sharpest shot, takes the sniper role; Gecko, the most experienced by a year, is the team leader and spotter; Maverick, the biggest man on the team, is the fallback guy; Finally, Storm, with the stealth and reconnaissance training, is the scout. When you don't have huntsmen, this highly trained four-man sniper team is your next best bet.

Under recent trade agreements, Atlas agreed to send a battalion of soldiers to help rid Mistral of barbarians. The sniper team had been patrolling the wilderness surrounding the Mistral town of Bliss, and they came across a small camp in a forest clearing. There were only three men and three women, one of the men dressed extravagantly, presumably a chieftain.

It didn't take very long for Flint and Gecko to set up a shot.

Storm and Maverick jump out from the trees, guns blazing. Storm uses a pair of bladed machine pistols, which are a common choice for military and huntsmen alike. Maverick, with a smaller taste for the fancy, mows down the remaining barbarians with a light machine gun. Their guns shoot bolts of ice, soon leaving nothing but bloody corpses on the grass.

Storm says, "Gecko, you see any others?"

Gecko says, "No, clear it on your end."

Storm walks into the camp, which is significantly larger than what you would expect for six people. Storm takes a few peeks around the camp, not finding anyone. He walks up to the corpses and prods them one by one. No signs of life. Storm turns to the others and nods. Time to patrol again.

As noon turns into late afternoon and into evening, the team finishes today's work. The village of Bliss is no more than four hundred people strong, and a few people give short waves to the team as they go back to their watchtower for rest. All soldiers look the same, so it's not like anyone knows the difference between Mistral and Atlas military. As the four look off into the sunset, Gecko says, "If I were them, I wouldn't rest easy tonight." Flint looks at the reactions of the others, and the implications are obvious; There is absolutely no disagreement. Gecko continues, "We hit them at the wrong time. The rest of the camp will find their chieftain, bringing their barbarian 'tard strength to this village."

Storm ejects the dust cartridges from his machine pistols and begins wiping the blades with a cloth. He says, "If I had to guess, they'll return to camp pretty soon, 'cause I didn't see any clear footprints. They must have left before it rained two nights ago, so they'll be heading back to resupply."

Gecko says, "I'll ask Colonel Razor to see if we can have a plane patrol tonight. Of course, he'll have to go up the chain of command a bit, but I'd rather have something than nothing."

Maverick says, "The only things we can trust out here are our guns. So what if we somehow manage a plane patrol? Cool, we get to see the barbarians as they come to kill us."

Gecko says, "Shut it, Maverick. Although... I have a bad feeling too."

As the others talk, Flint takes the time for maintenance. Not the tiniest grime allowed to remain in the barrel, and not a spot on the scope. Gecko radios the colonel, and fortunately gets a positive response as the men tuck in, with Storm taking first watch for tonight. The lamps of the villagers go out one by one until naught but the moon and the watchtower lamps give light. However, because Bliss is surrounded by forest, the light doesn't help in the possible case of an ambush by a horde of barbarians, and their exact number would be difficult to spot by plane. Storm, while darting his eyes around the surrounding forest, takes to wiping his blades a second time.

With Storm's shift soon over, it's Maverick's turn. Maverick takes to wiping his machine gun. He even lowers his helmet's ridiculous visor. Nothing happens, not even the wind arrives.

Flint is up next. Flint is a man of following orders: As long as you follow them correctly, nothing goes wrong. Flint's shift is uneventful too, with his not even needing to wipe the barrel of the Deliverance to pass time.

Gecko's turn. The first thing he does is radio the colonel, and he is answered, "Corporal, we've just learned of a very small number of barbarians 20 degrees, 20 minutes away from Bliss. Some huntsmen from the town are coming your way, they should be able to deal with them all. Your orders are to remain highly vigilant and hold your ground."

Gecko says, "Understood. Can the recon plane place a number?"

Colonel Razor replies, "Although it's tough for them to say because of the trees, we're quite certain that the barbarians number no more than twelve on the cautious side, possibly as low as eight."

"We'll wake up the village."

"Yes, it would be a disaster if you let any of the villagers die. Let me be clear, because this is a direct order: Put their lives above yours."

With nothing more to discuss, Gecko wakes up the other three and summarizes the situation.

Flint says, "So, defend them at all costs? Why bother saying that?"

Gecko says, "It would look really bad on Atlas if any of them died, but if a few soldiers die we get celebrated as heroes. Something along those lines."

Maverick says, "Well, they can't make us suicide ourselves. I'm sure if things get bad enough, anyone would run off."

Gecko shakes his head. "There's something I'd like to talk to you guys about after this," he says, "but it can wait. For now Maverick, you wake the village and have them hide in the town hall. Storm, you hide in the forest. Flint, you go into the northwest tower. I'll go into the northeast tower. Good luck."

Storm asks, "Gecko, you know something?"

"Know what?"

"Never mind." Storm jumps out of the watchtower and dashes away. As Maverick heads down to wake up the villagers, Gecko stops Flint.

Gecko says, "Take the standard ammo." Flint cocks his head and asks why, but Gecko answers, "I have a feeling. Just do it."

Flint walks atop the village's catwalk towards the northwest watchtower with an ammo box and the Deliverance case in his hands. It's at this point that the wind finally picks up, rustling the leaves and chilling the air. Despite the Atlas uniform's insulation, Flint cannot help but shiver. He best prepare to shoot three barbarians at least: If Flint can manage that, then the others should be able to clean up the rest. The huntsmen scum won't have any gratification. Soon enough, Flint arrives at his station. He turns around to see the village lamps burning, the villagers' scurrying.

The team connect their radios. Gecko says, "Testing, you all read?"

Everyone says yes.

Storm says, "I'm in the canopy about half a kilo north. I'll tell you when I see them."

Flint hurriedly unfolds the Deliverance from its case and attaches a low-magnification scope. As he fixes it in place, Gecko says, "Flint, look over here." Flint looks across the village to see Gecko in the other watchtower, who moves his finger from his assault rifle's trigger to point at his own eyes. "You don't have my eyes, do you? Fix your night scope."

Oh, right. In his rush, Flint forgot that it was dark during the night. He takes the night vision scope out of the case and swaps it with the old one. With everything else ready, Flint loads a round, rests the Deliverance on the side of the watchtower, and waits for action.

"By the way," Gecko says, "I checked the wind, and its blowing 30 kilos south. Shouldn't be a problem at this range."

At that moment, Storm whispers, "I see them. There are... wait, how many did Razor say there were?"

"A very small number, twelve at most."

"I count one, two, five..." Storm pauses for a moment. "...make that eight, fifteen. Oh God."

"Storm?"

"I'd guess at least sixty."

Even with the bustling villagers and blowing wind, an eerie silence hangs in the air. Gecko asks, "I think I misheard, could you repeat?"

"Sixty. Six-tee. They're in gun range now, and they'll be at the village in minutes. Not just that, they're heavily armed. I see rifles, handguns, and there's even a few rocket launchers. Gecko, what the hell are we supposed to do? We can't kill sixty of them, there's no way. Where did they even get all those guns?"

Flint looks through the scope. Through the green lens, Flint sees many shadows in the distance, dancing through the forest. He says, "I see a lot too, they're in range. I'll fire on command."

Gecko says, "I see them as well. Maverick, get your ass to the northwest tower and cover Flint."

"What about me, damn it?!" Storm speaks in a subdued shout. "If they see me, I'm dead."

"I'll count down from five. On my go, Flint, Maverick, and I will cover you. Try jumping through the forest top so we don't hit you by accident."

It's the only plan they've got, and there's no moment to spare. Flint sees the barbarians clearly now: Some of them have Atlas helmets on. What the hell was going on?

"Five..."

Gecko stretches. He blinks his yellow eyes and aims his rifle along the forest floor.

"Four..."

Flint takes out his finger, flexes it, and puts it back on the trigger.

"Three..."

Storm crouches on the tree top, legs ready to spring.

"Two..."

Maverick climbs the stairs up the watchtower.

"One..."

Maverick and Flint are both aiming down range. Flint locks onto a barbarian's chest as they trip ov-

"...Go."

The air explodes in gunfire, the team's combined firepower cutting through the forest like a laser chainsaw of death. Storm takes the opportunity to jump from tree to tree, escaping the horde, at least for the time being. Flint pulls the trigger, splitting the barbarian into heads and limbs. As he loads another shot, Maverick and Gecko continue the downpour. Shouts and screams are barely audible amidst the destruction. Flint takes aim once more. Another shot, another kill.

However, it doesn't last long. After a few seconds, Maverick and Gecko simultaneously announce, "Reloading."

For that second, silence returns to the night.

But then, a voice in the distance cries, "CHARGE!"

A horn blows. War cries.

The rustling of the bushes in the forest gives way to an earthquake of vibration. Gecko manages to reload, and he exits cover once more.

"Ah, damn!" he shouts as he ducks back down, a wave of bullets flying right through where his head just was. "I'm pinned down, I can't get a shot off!"

Maverick doesn't have much luck either. He tries blind firing, in a crouch, but he only strikes a single barbarian. Flint pops back out of cover, nails another barbarian, and gets back down, only barely dodging the ray of death directed at him. Maverick nudges Flint and says, "We're going to retreat, we can't do anything here!" As bullets fly over their heads, Flint locks the ammo box on his waist. They rush down the staircase, but halfway down-

Boom! The two of them are blown off the stairs and land roughly on the ground, face down. Flint turns over to see the watchtower ablaze; Was that a rocket? Maverick shouts, "Gecko, you gotta get down now! They're firing the rockets."

Gecko says, "I can't. The bastards are at the bottom, I'm surrounded!"

Flint looks over to see some of the barbarians climbing the stairs leading to the northeast tower. With swift aim, Flint blasts one of them off. However, one in five doesn't mean much. Gunfire from the top—Gecko's—sprays and kills three more. Flint tries to load another bullet as fast as he can, but not fast enough. He won't be able to kill the last barbarian quickly enough.

But then, a shadow catches up to the barbarian and buries a blade in their back. Storm says, "Ha, just in time." Just in time indeed. As Gecko rushes to the bottom of the staircase, another rocket blows up the watchtower. The explosion strikes the eardrums hard, even considering the gunfire. There's no beauty, perverse or otherwise, as the debris flies through the air and the flame envelops the husk.

Gecko shouts, "Regroup by the town hall!"

Flint and Maverick start running. They're on the village edge right now, and the barbarians will pour in any second. A barbarian turns the corner in front of them: Without even looking through the scope, Flint blows them in half. Maverick says, "Man, you're unreal."

Their victory is short-lived. The barbarians attack them from about four house lengths behind, saying their greetings with a few inaccurate shots. Maverick fires back as the pair dive behind a house. Maverick jabs Flint's shoulder and says, "You move on ahead, I'll cover you." As Flint hesitates, Maverick continues, "You can get a clearer shot if you do. Don't let me down!"

Flint nods. He signals with his fingers a three, a two, and a one. On zero, Flint dives out of cover and runs down the road, no time to take a shot. Maverick sprays indiscriminately. This seems to surprise the barbarians enough for them to stop shooting.

In record time, Flint reunites with Gecko and Storm in front of the town hall. Flint says, "Maverick's behind. I'm covering him."

Gecko nods as Flint goes prone on the road. Flint, with the decreased pressure, can take time to assess the situation and aim carefully. From the scope, Flint sees that there are six barbarians pinning down Maverick. With a deep breath and a squeeze of the trigger, Flint blasts one directly in the centre of mass. Their attention diverted by the sudden explosion of their fellow belligerent, the barbarians are easy pickings for Maverick as he mows them all down in a quick shower of bullets.

Once the barbarians are taken care of, Flint turns around to see Gecko motioning for him to come inside a house: The house right to the east of the town hall's entrance to be exact. Gecko says, "We're going to fortify here, it has a good view of the road. We'll have to hope that backup comes in time."

Storm mutters, "This sucks, this sucks, this really sucks..." He uses his blades to break the window from inside, because it would be better for the glass to break inside-out rather than into their faces.

From a short distance, they can hear the shouting of barbarians, with their cries for blood louder than the stray gunshots passing through the unoccupied houses. Not a moment too late, Maverick meets up with the rest of the team inside the house, and Flint turns to face him.

"Oh..."

Maverick is injured: A gash along his left shoulder, a scratch across his right thigh, and his helmet bears a graze mark. He says, "Just give me a minute, I'll be fine."

Gecko peeks out the window and, with a sigh, he says, "Make that ten seconds. Fire at will!"

Barbarians pour into view from every direction and every point of cover, their guns blazing. The team, minus Maverick, all fire back, shooting whoever they can. The gunfire in the air reaches a loudness like the men have never heard before, with nearly twenty guns taking turns. The adrenaline pumping through their veins is so intense that it takes several seconds for them to register that each of them have been shot twice each.

Maverick, with dressing applied to the appropriate places, peeks and fires a few shots. He would fire more if not for the bullet that strikes his head. Flint watches, but doesn't hear himself scream. Gecko says, "Come on guys!" Gecko and Storm continue shooting, but then another problem presents itself.

Storm shouts, "I'm out of ammo!"

"I'm out too," says Gecko.

At this point, all of them are badly wounded, each of them bearing several wounds. Now, with no means to fight back, the battle rage calms down and the pain kicks in. They collapse on the ground, barely maintaining consciousness.

Flint lies on the ground, clutching his abdomen. What hell is happening, this is crazy! We're going to die, we're going to die. We're going to-

Flint never forgets what happens next.

From the corner of his eye, four huntsmen jump into the fray. Their swords, axes, and hammers look like toys until they're brought down upon the barbarians. But what really sticks into Flint's mind is the expression of the saw-wielding mohawked huntsman. The expression of the huntsman as he lays waste to the barbarians is unforgettably horrifying.

The huntsman is smiling.

The rest of the battle passes like a flash. Effortlessly, the huntsmen slay the barbarians without a scratch on their colourful robes. As he lies in agony, Flint thinks about the huntsman's face.

There really isn't any honour of the typical sort when it comes to huntsmen. All they have is strength. There is no purpose in battle except for showing strength. It's all about might. Only the strong are seen as honourable, and only the honourable are respected and have the right to smile in battle.

On the other side, I'm not strong. Thus, I have no honour and will die here. I have no honour or chivalry. I have no honour or chivalry. I have no honour or chivalry. I have no...

Flint repeats this thought until he gives into unconsciousness.

The night passes, and then nearly a day. And then many days.

Flint wakes up. He opens his eyes and looks around: He seems to be in a military hospital.

"Oh, you're awake."

Flint turns around and sees Gecko on the bed beside him, who wears a small smile of relief. Flint also sees Storm, who is significantly gloomier. Maverick is also awake, albeit with a bandage across his face.

Gecko continues, "Yeah, none of our injuries were life-threatening, thank luck. Even Maverick, it turns out that headshot only hit his cheek."

Flint asks, "So, what happened? After the huntsmen came in, I mean."

"Well, all of the barbarians got wiped. We killed about fifteen, maybe twenty. The huntsmen killed about fifty, according to what I hear from the hospital staff. We got airlifted out of the village, the huntsmen moved the corpses, cleaned the blood, and fixed the village. From what I hear, the villagers are pretty happy about it. The town hall is bulletproof, so it turns out that all of the villagers are fine. No injuries whatsoever. It's been about a week, and everything in the village is as good as new."

With an edge to his voice, Storm says, "Praise Colonel Razor, right? A very small number of barbarians approaching your position, no more than twelve my ass!"

Gecko glares hard. He says, "We need to talk about this, now."

Maverick says, "This? The only 'this' is that we got shot up to hell."

Gecko answers, "No. The thing is, Colonel Razor must have known. When there are sixty barbarians, it's impossible to see them as 'no more than twelve.'"

Flint says, "So?"

In a much quieter voice, Gecko says, "We have to keep this down low. The only conclusion is that he knew we'd run for our lives if he told us the truth. We would give our lives for Atlas, but not for some bestials in Mistral. If the huntsmen arrived a minute later, we would have died for sure. I think that Razor-""

"...Expected us to die" finishes Flint, scratching and tearing the bed sheets.

Maverick says, "Now that I think about it, I think I know why the barbarians were so heavily armed. They probably killed a bunch of other soldiers and took their weapons. We shouldn't be in the military anymore. I don't want that to happen again. We don't need to die for an army that pulls these kinds of stunts."

"Speaking of which," Gecko says as he looks around, making sure nobody unwanted is watching. "I had something I wanted to talk to you guys about. I wanted to talk about it before this happened, and I can't put it off any longer." He stares at each of us.

"Let's transfer out."

Flint says, "Huh?"

"Transfer out. We've gotten severely injured in the line of duty. We have the right to transfer out. The army isn't the same as it was five years ago. It doesn't need us anymore. We're nothing but cannon fodder for the huntsmen. We have more skills than every other soldier. We did the best we could, and we did better that night than any other soldiers possibly could, but we're still trash to the higher-ups."

Storm says, "I don't want to be here either, but what do we do? We don't exactly have the education of normal folk, so we can't do non-combat positions. And... we still need work."

Gecko shakes his head and says, "I don't know, but we can't stay here! You guys are amazing. We'll keep looking. We'll find some place where we don't get thrown away. A place where we get the respect we deserve."

The other three might have had protests, but when it came to Flint, he had no will to voice any of them. Their military days in Mistral spoke for themselves.

The four of them looked. By sheer luck, the right people heard their voices. Thus, a year later, Flint and Gecko find themselves running through the night, having just incinerated a trailer where four men were playing poker.

Flint says, "Gecko, I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"About the time we got screwed in Mistral."

Gecko pauses a moment before answering. He says, "Yeah, that sucked, didn't it."

"I still remember how you said we were going to 'get the respect we deserve.' What did you mean by that?"

"Isn't it obvious? We're still alive, and we're not getting thrown like suicide bombs at random barbarians in a kingdom that isn't even ours. It's also a good feeling that the bastard Razor got discharged. I hear he lives in some ugly suburban place. Alive and hearing good news, day after day. What more could we ask for?"

"I guess..."

Flint could agree that the feeling of not getting killed by barbarians was pretty good. At the same time, Flint couldn't help but feel empty somewhere. As the two of them run, Flint keeps thinking.

I wasn't strong. I'm still not strong. There's still no honour, no chivalry. We're still worthless compared to huntsmen. So, what's the point in continuing on?

Flint shakes off the thought. He keeps running ahead with a life that will never let him escape his weakness. A life where something unknown is missing from his heart.


	3. Chapter 3: Breaking News

Chapter 3: Breaking News

Beep! Beep! Beep! Flint reaches to the side of the bed and slams the alarm clock to shut it up. With a heavy sensation, Flint sits up and glances at the time. It's eight in the morning, July 3rd, Sunday. Unlike most people, he has work seven days a week.

He was too exhausted to do anything last night besides collapse on his bed, and he got five hours of sleep at most. In his stupor, Flint reaches for his scroll and opens up his bank account. He has 5,325,612 lien to his name, and he received 100,000 from the military council last night as a "commission."

Flint yawns, stretches, and climbs out of bed. He cooks an instant breakfast in the microwave. He opens the breakfast. He goes to his small, cluttered living room. There's a tiny sofa, a tiny television, and a pile of many, many boxes accumulated over the years that he never bothered to throw out. Taking a seat on the sofa, Flint turns on the news.

"We are currently at the G1 factory complex, long abandoned," the blonde busty news reporter says. "Early this morning, there was an explosion inside the ghost town's G1 factory complex. Reportedly, three men died in the explosion. Its cause is currently unclear, although witnesses claim to have seen a lightning bolt strike the trailer the men were residing in. Based on alibis and dental records, two of the men have been identified as the twins Mirror and Fractal Decorous. Proud huntsmen, they will be missed, and the Atlas military council will be giving an address later today. Right now, I'm with the twins' only local relative, their cousin."

The camera shifts over to a young woman with silver hair and grey irises, although her hair is dishevelled, her eyes red. A box shows up with her name: Glass Decorous. The anchor says, "Miss Decorous, we're all sorry for your loss. Do you have anything you would like to say?"

Glass says, "Thanks, but I don't have much. I... I'm one of the detectives on this case, you know? I swear I'll... find whoever killed them. It was no random explosion, or lightning strike. Someone did it. I know it has to be some bastard scum... but I-" She coughs, but continues, "I'm sorry."

The camera cuts to an elderly news anchor. He says, "What a terrible tragedy. I still can't believe something like this can happen in Atlas. The question is who, and how? The investigation is ongoing, but we know that the police are comparing the crime to that of the serial killer called the 'Stalker.' The public currently doesn't know of the investigation's progress, but nonetheless, we wish the best of luck to the investigators, to Miss Decorous, and any others that have been hurt by this tragedy. Next, we would like to discuss the strikes in the dust-"

Flint shuts off the television. He quickly slurps up the remainder of his breakfast. He heads into the bathroom, brushes his teeth, and turns on the shower. As Flint scrubs himself clean, what does he think about the news he just watched?

He thinks some things. The investigation will get stopped at some point, probably by a military council executive. As for guilt, Flint feels none. After all, they were criminals, and their weapons probably caused lots of harm. They would have caused more harm if he didn't intervene. From that perspective, Flint is the hero, and he doesn't even need to be a huntsman. Of course, he feels somewhat bad for the Decorous girl, but sacrifices need to be made. However, more importantly, Flint simply doesn't want to care.

Once Flint dries himself off, he digs through his drawers and pulls out his work clothes: Collared shirt, khakis, and tie.

Last night, Flint and the others were ordered to meet at the agency offices. Noon is a code word for nine in the morning, in case the conversations are overheard. The agency places upmost priority in hiding the identities of its members, even between operatives, and disguising with false work times is a simple but effective start. Flint lives in an apartment in downtown Hearth, a ten minute walk to work. Checking that his khakis contain his room key, Flint leaves for the morning commute. Exiting the apartment building, he joins the frantic morning crowd.

While nighttime is a different beast entirely, the Atlas daytime is one of mundane yet spectacular chaos. The people pack together into homogeneous blobs, which hides whatever differences in facial expression the individual may have. The streets are marvellously clean. Downtown Hearth forms a perfect grid of streets and alleys, and not a single building is lifeless or derelict. From every line of sight, the hover train system that makes up the bulk of Hearth's public transport has an easy-to-access station. The hover trains' path goes down to the pedestrian level, and it soars all the way up to the top of skyscrapers. That's not to mention the flying cars. The hover trains, with the sky as their background, look like the chariots of gods, and the flying cars act as their heavenly companions.

However, Flint has no need for fancy transportation. Ten minutes later, he arrives at the Downtown Centre, a massive mall and a popular tourist destination. His destination is the Top Condition clothing store, where he goes to the back end through the employee door. Past the employee door is the men's restroom. The second toilet stall on the right is a secret entrance: One of the tiles on the wall has a very small stain of blue. Flint taps on it five times, which reveals an eye scanner. It does its work, and then the entire wall opens up, revealing the entrance of the agency offices.

The Atlas Secret Service and Intelligence Agency, called Assia for short, is a hybrid branch of Atlas homeland security that deals with covert investigation, and it often handles the forcible elimination of threats. Top Condition, although a successful store in its own right, primarily serves as the secret entrance for Assia. While institutions such as the police force are subject to checks by the other branches, Assia only answers to the high members of the military council.

Compared to the metropolis that is downtown Hearth, the interior of Assia is archaic. The entrance is a double door made of wood. Past the double doors, the building is a snake-like maze of white hallways and fluorescent lights. The time is 8:30, about the time for Flint to meet with his teammates before the morning briefing.

The coffee break room. Inside, Gecko is already sipping through a styrofoam cup of black coffee. He says, "Morning."

"..."

Gecko already set up the coffee machine to prepare a second cup. A few moments later, Flint gets his own cup, and the two of them start drinking in silence.

The unbearable silence soon breaks as two voices steadily grow louder.

"...-at was it?"

"We had no clue Mav, but their sounds were weird as hell!"

"Oh no, I see where this is going."

"So we went upstairs, avoiding some passed out guy's piss on the staircase, and then..."

"Oh?"

Storm and Maverick enter the break room. Storm says, "We went into the bathroom, and the three of them were-!"

Maverick jabs Storm's shoulder. With a small smirk, the emotions behind it unclear, Maverick says, "Man, shut up."

"Morning," says Gecko.

"Hey."

"Good morning."

Flint stays silent. Storm cocks his head to the side, eyebrows raised, but only briefly. Now its Storm and Maverick's turn to use the coffee machine. Flint looks at the others' faces: Gecko is growing a beard. Even though lizard Faunus take ages to grow beards, Gecko manages to have one anyway. Storm looks as if he was straight from the military days back then, although—surely—the wounds underneath his clothes are still there. As for Maverick, his left cheek bears that cursed scar.

Will those days haunt them forever?

Storm grabs Flint's shoulder, pulling him back to reality. Storm says, "Flint, I got something to show you. Come with!"

With nothing else to do, Flint follows Storm out of the break room. As if ushered in by Flint's absence, Gecko and Maverick begin conversing, a topic so mundane it doesn't warrant respect.

Once the door closes behind them, Storm faces Flint and says, "You okay man?"

"Huh? Yeah, of course."

"You never talked much, but at least say 'hello,' like you usually do."

"Hello."

Storm sighs. "Very funny." Storm isn't smiling whatsoever. He pokes Flint's chest and says, "Let me guess, you were thinking about Mistral."

Flint turns away. He sheepishly says, "Yeah, I was."

"Last night was the first time we killed someone in the city in a while. Usually we kill them outside the city, and no one bothers reporting the...you know."

"The what?"

"The breaking news. On the killing, I mean. I've been meaning to ask this for a while, Flint, so I don't want a half-assed answer. You hear me?"

Flint nods.

Storm says, "Okay."

He takes a deep breath.

"Why do you have this job?"

Flint raises his eyebrows. He says, "Why I have this job? What do you mean?"

Storm says in a harsher tone, "You know what I mean. Us three, by that I mean everyone in the team besides you, has a motive. Or at the very least, an excuse we tell ourselves."

"I do this job because I need work, so I-"

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" Storm slaps his forehead. "Flint, I care about you. I really do. We've been through hell together. I'm sure the others feel the same way. That's why Gecko keeps telling you to 'learn about something other than shooting.' It's also why I'm going to be brutally honest here."

"Brutally honest?"

"I think you're just weak, and you use sniping as an excuse to cover your shattered dreams of becoming the heroic huntsman all of the kids look up to."

Flint tries to think of a witty comeback, but none come. Storm says, "Gecko wants to protect Atlas, and this is the only way he knows how, or so he says. I know that I have people dear to me, and this line of work is the most I can do. Maverick doesn't want to disappoint us, and he wants to protect us the best he can. None of us half-ass what we're doing here: We're killing people for a living. Criminals or not, we target someone, they die. None of us have any delusions about how...shit this is! None of us, except for you."

Just then, they hear footsteps from inside the break room. The door opens, and Gecko says, "I don't think we need to wait any longer. Let's just go to the briefing early."

The air is a bit tense as the four of them walk to briefing room 4. Briefing room 4 is poorly lit, and a massive rectangular table is in the centre of the room. To the side is a projector, already turned on. Inside, a large man with short orange hair and a sly smirk is already waiting. His suit bears a name tag that reads, "Felix Fellow: Operations Manager."

Felix says, "Oh, thank goodness! I'm in a rush today, so I was hoping you'd come early. Amazing! Take a seat, gentlemen. Let's get started."

Wordlessly, the team sits at the rectangular table. Felix takes out a laser pointer, goes to the projector screen, and begins the briefing.

Felix says, "As always, take no notes. Anyway, after your 'party' last night, Gecko got a call from me. This Tuesday night, you guys will be taking out a man suspected of being the Stalker, the serial killer that's been on the news."

Felix clicks a button on the pointer, and the projector shows an image of a dart and a map. The map is of Remnant, with tens of red dots all over, placed at seemingly random locations. Not a single continent is left untouched. Felix continues, "I regret to say that even with our investigation and vast database, we still know nearly nothing about the Stalker. We do know that the all of the victims have been poisoned by this type of dart you see here on screen. Unfortunately, we cannot be certain as to what the poison is. It's not in any database we have access to. Also, we have no idea how this dart is shot, so the precise killing method is also unknown. Their method of travel is also unknown. As you can see on the map, the Stalker has jumped from place to place, killing huntsman after huntsman. We even collaborated with other kingdoms, and no person has shown up that has a correlating travel pattern. Right now, the most we know is that we think the Stalker is in this city."

Felix then looks directly at Flint. Felix says, "Now, although all of the huntsmen the Stalker has killed are confirmed to have been criminals after the fact, understand that we can't allow a serial killer of this efficiency to go out of control. You might be wondering how we've found the guy. Honestly, we only have a list of suspects at this point."

Felix clicks the button again. This time, there are two maps. One is of the interior of a compound, and the other is the compound's location in Atlas: Just on the north outskirts of Hearth. Felix says, "Namely, the suspects will be everyone inside this compound. We've gotten a tip, from a credible source mind you, that a shipment of poison darts will be smuggled into this compound. Anyone in here may have access to the poison darts, so they're all targets."

"Well, not exactly. You guys are the best at what you do. I'm sure you'll find a way to identify the actual Stalker, one way or another, and you'll only need one shot. We suggest that Storm and Maverick cautiously infiltrate the compound for reconnaissance. You don't have to worry about security cameras or motion sensors: We've already confirmed that there are none. You can expect twenty men at most to be in the compound, all heavily armed. You would do well to take them seriously. Flint and Gecko should take position on the hill to the south of the compound."

Felix then stops smiling entirely. He stares at each team member in turn. He says, "The lives of many are depending on you, gentlemen. We don't want to send the army or the police, because too many of our men will be in danger. We need to stop the Stalker, now. You have until Tuesday night to prepare. Good luck."

The team leaves the briefing room. Gecko says, "Let's head over to the weapons locker. See what we might need."

Storm says, "Yeah guys, we're finally going to do some good this time!"

Gecko says, "Shut it, Storm."

As they walk, Storm goes beside Flint and whispers into his ear, "You know, maybe Mistral isn't the exact reason you're being pissy right now. I apologize for that."

The combined force of raw sarcasm and irony in Storm this morning has been nearly unbearable, but Storm doesn't let up. He says, "It's actually the morning news, right? It's not that you feel nothing about shooting some poor girl's cousins, it's that you actually want to feel something, right? But you don't feel anything, and it pisses you off. Is that it?"

Flint grimaces and retreats to the back as they walk.

Wasn't this time going to be different? They're going to kill the Stalker, for crying out loud. Maybe the other times had moral issues, but this time is certainly not one of them.

Then, Storm doesn't bother to whisper. He says, so that all of them can hear, "Flint, I wonder what you'd say to poor Miss Decorous."


	4. Chapter 4: Fate

Chapter 4: Fate

It's Monday morning: The team is finalizing their plan. Yesterday, they stocked and counted their weapons supplies and made vague statements about their objectives. Today, the team seeks to determine a specific course of action, along with safeguards against contingencies.

They're currently sitting around a modestly sized table within meeting room 2 of the Assia offices. At the head of the table is Gecko, who has covered the entire table with a massive map of the compound. Each man has a red marker in hand.

The team has already outlined the points of interest. Warehouse Complex C1 is a storage facility that has recently restarted operations after the revitalization of Atlas-Mistral trade agreements. Its entrance is on the southern edge of the compound's square wall, cutting off a dirt road that branches a short distance off the highway. The entrance is blocked by a gate where a security station also resides, which reportedly has two guards at all times. Inside the compound are three buildings. Along the western edge is a long warehouse, which has some windows on its massive garage doors that Flint can shoot through. Along the northern edge is a brick building, which is the management centre of the compound. The right edge has parking spaces and a maintenance hut. Truly, the compound is a relic of the past.

Of particular interest is a point on the western side of the warehouse, where Storm and Maverick currently plan to enter the compound.

Gecko says, "So, Storm, you know your business. Is this really the best place to enter?"

Storm nods and says, "Yeah, absolutely. I would go as far as to say that it's the only place we can scale the wall. Look." Storm points at the main entrance of the compound. "We can't enter anywhere from the south, 'cause we'd get spotted by the guards here." Storm then points at the brick building on the north end. "We also can't enter anywhere on the north. The brick building has lots of windows, right? It will also have more people there than anywhere else, and at least one of them will see us." Finally, Storm points at the eastern side of the compound. "The parking space is obviously suicide. There's no cover. The maintenance hut, although it has excellent cover, is completely pointless."

Maverick says, "Completely pointless? I'm not sure about that. If it has cover, then we could take position there."

Gecko says, "Storm's right about that part, actually." Gecko opens a notebook, flips through the pages, and explains, "Felix found this. It apparently belonged to the old manager of the compound. Lets see..." Gecko skims around and says, "Yeah, here. It's an overview of the maintenance hut's operation. According to the manager, the maintenance hut is basically only used for some tools by its entrance, and rarely at that, so its quite cluttered and difficult to walk through. Also, since no one goes there, it would render reconnaissance moot."

Maverick says, "I see. So I guess we can ignore the maintenance hut."

Gecko takes his marker and draws an arrow leading from the entrance to the parking, and from the parking to the warehouse. He says, "I think it's safe to assume that the poison dart package will follow a path like this."

Storm says, "Yeah. So this means that the entry point should position us in the warehouse so that we can relay information to Flint. It'll probably be hard for him to see what's happening inside."

Flint says, "A high-percentage flame dust round could kill lots of them at once if I time it right. We might actually be able to gun them all down if we're lucky."

Maverick says, "I'd rather not."

Gecko places his finger on his chin and says, "I like our plan so far. Storm and Maverick climb the compound wall and quietly break through the warehouse's wall using a tiny ice dust charge. If you guys can find anything that makes it apparent who the Stalker is, then that's great. Whatever happens, relay the information. Flint will bomb the hell out of them with the Deliverance. You guys sneak back out the way you came, and that's that." Then, Gecko turns to Flint. "By the way Flint, the Deliverance is still in your apartment, right?"

"Yeah. It's under the floorboards of my sofa."

"Okay then. We just have two more things to discuss. Although the western wall is a good place, it's not perfect."

Flint nods and says to Storm and Maverick, "I won't be able to cover you two when you're by the wall. You'll be hidden from us, and we can't just reposition ourselves."

Storm says, "That's fine. We'd see any guards coming from a mile away. If things get even slightly fishy, we'll run and call off the operation. Don't want a repeat of Mistral, do we?"

Tch!

Flint says, "I'll have a hard time covering you inside the warehouse as well, so you better be really careful."

Storm smirks and says, "Oh, I will. Even if things go down, Maverick will be a monster and kill all the baddies, won't he?"

Maverick rolls his eyes. He says, "I'd rather not."

Gecko taps the end of his marker on the table and says, "Okay guys, let's go over our equipment list again." Gecko writes as he speaks. "Flint will bring the Deliverance case. We should all wear black camo, and we also have to bring night vision goggles since its a night operation. Flashlights too. We got a refill of ice dust over the weekend, so I'll bring some of that. Storm, you take three grade-1 ice dust charges. Maverick, you're in charge of bringing the rations. We don't know how long we'll be waiting." Gecko looks at Storm. "What do you think would be most helpful if things go wrong?"

Storm says, "Thunderclaps, maybe? Its stun will probably be more efficient than blowing them up with flame grenades. That said, I'd still like some flame grenades."

"Very well. Also, I'll see to it that each of us gets a hover bike as well. I'll talk to Felix about that." Then, Gecko grabs the edge of the map. He says, "We'll go over it again tonight. I'll make sure to reserve our stuff in the armoury. We'll pick them up tomorrow. All good?"

The three others nod. Gecko rolls up the map, ties it with a band, and stows it the corner. Once they're all out of the room, Gecko takes out his scroll and waves it in front of the door's scanner, locking it.

Storm says, "You guys wanna hang around the Downtown Centre?"

Shortly after, the guys end up going to the new aquarium. Its entrance leads to an underground staircase. At the bottom of the staircase, the aquarium branches off into five spokes, each's theme based upon the aquatic life of a different region. In clockwise order, there is Atlas, Mistral, Menagerie, Vale, and Vacuo. Each spoke has a unique entrance arch, alluding to the climate of their respective regions.

Flint finds himself face-to-face with a koi fish in the Mistral section. He can't help but contemplate Storm's words from yesterday. Storm was wrong: Flint isn't bothered at all by the fact that he feels nothing about killing. However, now that Storm's mentioned the fact, it lingers in the back of Flint's mind.

"What would I say to her...?"

"The better question is, what are you doing?"

Flint looks over his shoulder and sees Maverick. Maverick continues, "You look sad. Did Storm get to you?"

"How would he?"

"Storm isn't as secretive as he thinks he is. We overheard everything in the break room and basically every single one of his whispers."

"I see." Flint gazes back at the koi fish. "Maverick, why do you party with us?"

"Party?" Maverick joins Flint to form a three-way staring contest. "Oh, right. Sorry, let me think for a moment. I'm not gonna take this lightly."

Maverick ponders his answer as the aquarium's traffic obliviously streams around. About a minute later, Maverick says, "Because it's all I can do."

"What's that mean?"

"Before I explain that, you have to understand something. Storm is looking out for you, and he's right to be concerned. It's not healthy to close yourself off from the dirtiness of our job. At the same time, he's not entirely right either." Then, Maverick waves his hand in front of Flint's eyes. "Flint, stop staring at the fish. Instead, look at the glass."

Flint does what Maverick says. Upon doing so, the image of the koi is replaced by the reflection of his own face. Short black hair. Black eyes with small bags. Sharp nose and chin. His skin is the exact same shade of tan as it was six years ago. Flint says, "I... haven't changed much, have I."

Maverick says, "Huh, 'not much,' is an understatement. You literally haven't changed at all since you joined the military."

"Wait, in Mistral, we all-"

"No. Mistral changed nothing. It only changed our jobs. Maybe it changed our selfish reasons for working, but we're the same people. Look at me. What do you see?"

"Brown hair, red eyes, scary guy. You got a scar since then."

"Yeah, I did. But apart from that, I'm the same. It's not like any of us changed in a way... that we needed to. Look at Storm. He's the same blue-eyed, blond jock he was in school. I'd say he's changed even less than you. But even then, he's better off than you. Flint, that's what you have to understand: Storm's outlook has been there since he was a teenager. It's a source of strength for him. But it's not the strength that he needs."

"Well, what does he need?"

"Only he knows that. But either way, you have to do the most that you can. He doesn't do it, and you don't do it either. Gecko and I do. That's why I 'party' with you guys."

"Because it's the most you can do."

"Yeah. We should, of course, have our own reasons for picking this line of work. At the same time, it's wrong to romanticize it, but I'd say the most important thing is doing my best to protect you guys."

"What about me? What can I do? I... don't know."

Maverick turns away, leaving Flint to stare back at the koi fish. He says, "You do know. It's down there, somewhere. Give it time. Maybe twenty-five, thirty years is too old, but better later than never."

Just as Flint is about to zone out, he snaps out of it and joins Maverick as he walks off.

The guys hang out for the rest of the afternoon. And they have fun.

In the evening, they go over their plans again. Apart from adding ice screen grenades to their arsenal, the plan is unchanged. Once their discussion is over, Gecko visits Felix's office to handle the hoverbike request. Felix says, "You guys can have hoverbikes. But in exchange, I want your team to wear these tomorrow."

Felix hands Gecko four collar-radios, which are identical to their current radios in appearance. Gecko asks, "What is this about?"

"Assia needs the most efficient operatives out in the field, and I'd get whipped by the military council itself if I messed up with you guys. These radios have miniature cameras and microphones in them so that I can review your performance. Try to ignore it though, the agency is quite lenient when it comes to any 'hard decisions' you may come across."

"I'll tell my team."

As Gecko turns on his scroll, Felix says, "So, you're going off to reserve equipment?"

"Yes."

"Can I see your list?"

Gecko hands Felix his scroll. "So you've got four black camo armors, three night vision goggles, four flashlights, a canister of ice dust, three grade-1 ice charges, four rations, two thunderclaps, two flame grenades, two ice screens, and then all of your guns. Geez, are you guys planning on rebelling against Atlas or something?"

"No, sir. The grenades are for a safety margin."

"Gecko." Felix glares and pierces into Gecko's eyes as he hands back the scroll. "Take nothing less. You'll need them."

"Um, excuse me?"

"Get out of my office, I'm busy."

With that, Gecko leaves off for the armoury, although he wears a rather strange expression on his face.

"What's with this feeling..."

During sunset the next day, the team meets inside a small Assia outpost on the northern outskirts of Hearth, where four hoverbikes are hidden inside a cargo container. No roads lead to it. The outpost is a small hut with a freezer and a weapons locker. It's available, upon request, for operatives to stay here for as long as they need. In this case, it would be for only today.

Gecko is holding a map of Hearth, where two marks designate the outpost and the compound respectively. It is a thirty minute ride on hoverbikes.

Gecko says, "So now that we're familiar with the route, we have housekeeping to do." He takes out the four radios he received from Felix. "Felix said we have to use these radios. They record sound, and they have cameras too."

Maverick says, "They're doing a performance check? I don't mind, personally, but I never like using new pieces of technology."

Storm says, "Hey Felix, you suck!"

Gecko says, "Shut it, Storm. Anyway, I don't like new technology either. That said, I do have a workaround that shouldn't bother Felix too much. Since these new radios are only for recording, we can still use our old radios. As long as the new radios can record, Felix shouldn't have a problem."

Flint says, "So you're saying we should wear both."

"That's right. It would suck if we hit a reliability problem, so might as well use what works. You guys have a problem with that?" Everyone shakes their head. "We're ready, then. We'll gear up, load up the bikes, and then go to the site."

Once they put on their camo body armour and sort out their equipment, they go outside and open the cargo container. The hoverbikes are jet black. They have swept back handlebars, streamlined windshields, and wide thrusters. Sleek.

Flint mounts his hoverbike and kicks up the anchor as they turn on their radios. With their preparations complete, they ride off into the darkening sky.

By the time they are anywhere near the compound, the night sky is lit only by the stars. The hoverbikes' lights are set to their lowest angles and lowest powers, making it feel as if they are riding upon a sea of shadows. As discussed, Flint and Gecko split off from Maverick and Storm.

About a minute's walk away from their sniping position, Flint and Gecko leave their hoverbikes in an open field. With Flint's night vision goggles and Gecko's natural sight, they creep towards the hilltop at the south of the compound. Gecko leads the way with an assault rifle and a pair of binoculars hanging down his neck. Gecko points out a particularly thick bush: A perfect place to play the waiting game. Once they're by the bush, they have a full look at the compound. There are about twenty guards visible, all armed with assault rifles and under-mounted flashlights. As expected, two guards are positioned at the entrance gates. The rest of the guards cycle in and out of the brick building, so it's impossible to know exactly how many guards are on site.

Flint whispers, "Do you think they'd be able to see us if they had night vision goggles? Or were Faunus?"

Gecko whispers back, "Well, we're only 500 metres south of them. They might even be able to see us if we stand up, so keep a low profile."

The two go prone and snake into the bush. If someone just happens to spot them, Flint would have trouble getting out of the bush before the guards riddle him with bullets. With that in mind, Flint silently sets the Deliverance case on the ground in front of him. Although the angle is awkward, he manages to unfold the Deliverance. For tonight, Flint also goes out of his way to try attaching the bipod. The Deliverance has an attachment point underneath the barrel for the bipod, so Flint nudges the bipod into position at a snail's pace. Bit by bit, it goes in with a sharp

click.

Flint looks around. The guards are still behaving normally. Flint turns over on his side. It doesn't seem like anyone is beside or behind. Good. Next, the night vision scope.

Click.

Flint balances the Deliverance on its bipod, looks through the scope, and begins the observational phase of the mission. Flint says, addressed to his teammates through the radio, "The Deliverance is ready."

With a small amount of static, Storm says, "We're approaching the western wall. Is there anyone by the warehouse? Or patrolling outside the wall?"

Gecko, looking through the binoculars, says, "No, but don't enter the site yet."

Maverick says, "How guards are there?"

"Currently fourteen in the central open space, two by the entrance gate, and two hanging by a pickup truck in the parking space. Can't see any through the windows on the warehouse. Have no idea how many are in the brick building. You should wait by the wall once Flint's loaded a round. The wall is eight feet tall: You guys bring something for that?"

Storm says, "Don't sweat it, I always bring rope with me."

Gecko whispers to Flint, "We'll need to cover them at all times. I'll give you a cartridge now, and I'll read the wind speed regularly."

"Understood."

Gecko activates the bullet compositor. 10% ice, 80% flame, and 10% lightning. The whirr of the Bullet Compositor hides underneath the sound of the blowing wind. Flint says, "That's a lot less lightning, and a lot more flame than usual."

Gecko says, "If things go wrong, you'll have to go for a multi-kill. The downside is that the bullet drop will be quite significant with only 10% lightning dust." Gecko hands over the colourful cartridge, clasped between his hands. "Elevation angle negative 1.1 degree."

Sure to not let any light escape from the massive red bullet, Flint cups it in his hands as he loads it into the Deliverance.

Clink! He bolts it in.

Gecko says, with the anenometer in his hands, "20 kilos due 200 degrees. Adjust scope by 2 degrees counterclockwise." Once Flint follows the order, Gecko says, "Maverick, Storm, we're ready. Approach site at your discretion. No guards are patrolling the walls."

Storm says, "Okay, we're going in." Flint watches them through his scope, sure to keep the crosshair far below them. While crouched, Maverick and Storm swiftly advance. Storm flings a rope over the wall. After making sure its fixed, they sit up against the wall. Storm says, "We're ready to cross over at anytime."

Then, Gecko stretches and says, "Now, we wait. The time is 2100." While he's at it, he prepares a second cartridge for the Deliverance.

And wait they do. On ten minute intervals, Gecko tells Flint to make slight adjustments to the scope. Apart from that, very little happens. An hour passes, then another. Midnight arrives, and still the guards do nothing but rotate within the compound.

One in the morning. They open their rations.

As they eat, Maverick speaks on the radio for the first time in a long while. He says, "You know, these radios as recording devices is a pretty dumb idea."

Storm says, "Yeah, suck it Felix."

Gecko says, "I don't like them either. Why interfere like that in such a pointless way?"

Maverick says, "I know, right. We do our jobs fine. It speaks for itself. We don't need performance checks."

Flint says, "They should leave it to us."

"I think it's kind of shady. What bigger way is there to show that you don't trust the guy out on the field?"

Gecko says, "Cut the chatter, that's enough for now."

Silence returns to the night.

Two in the morning.

Gecko says, "Hold up, something's happening!"

At two sharp, the normal rotation stops. One guard exits through the gate and walks along the outer edge of the wall, clockwise. Gecko says, "Someone's patrolling the outside wall. You guys don't have time to run off, unless we're aborting mission. You can either climb or run. Your call."

Without a moment's hesitation, Storm says, "We're going over."

Maverick and Storm climb up the rope and drop down from the other side. The guard approaches the corner: They will surely see the rope. With a quick yank, Maverick pulls the rope over the edge and out of view just as the guard turns the corner. Obviously, this course of action carries significant risk. Now that they're inside the compound, their escape will be much trickier.

The rest of the guards stop waiting in the centre of the compound. Some of them go to open one of the warehouse's garage doors. Others ride in the pickup truck and drive out of the compound entirely, presumably done their shift. The rest move by the now open door to the warehouse, as if expecting something to unload. Soon enough, a chaotic sound makes itself heard.

Gecko says, "You hear that?"

Flint says, "That's probably the delivery."

A cargo truck drives up the dirt road and waits by the gate. A security guard walks up to the driver. They seem to exchange some information before the truck is let through. As that happens, Storm hangs the rope back over the wall, just in case.

Gecko says, "Flint, it's go time. Of the guards here, it's highly probable one of them is the Stalker."

"You say that, but they all look the same."

"They may look the same, but one of them may act differently."

"I think I have an idea, if that's the case. We expect the poison darts to be in a box, right? And it will be unloaded into the warehouse. At some point, the Stalker will go up to the box and open it and try to get some without anyone noticing. Once that happens, I'll light him up."

"But there will be multiple boxes, right? Which one will it be?"

Storm says, "I'll handle that. I can get a closer look at the boxes and tell you which one, or ones, has the poison darts."

Gecko says, "It's a plan then. Let's do this."

Storm places an ice charge on the warehouse wall, close to the ground. The extremely weak ice dust explosion doesn't so much tear open the wall as it simply wears it down. Storm delivers a quick kick to the wall, and the pieces fall onto the ground. Maverick and Storm crawl through the resulting hole and go into the warehouse.

Flint says, "Remember, I can't see you from this angle. I can see the far end of the warehouse, but I can't see anything on the close end, where you guys are. If things go wrong, I might not be able to do much."

Maverick says, "We'll be fine if you can just handle the far end. My machine gun can handle anything close."

At this point, the cargo truck is reversing into the garage door opening. Beep, beep, beep. The rear door of the truck opens up. Gecko says, "Flint, reduce scope angle by 0.2."

As Flint adjusts the scope, he asks, "Storm, you see how many boxes there are?"

After a few moments of waiting, Storm says, "Three. They're starting to unload them."

The guards unload the boxes, one by one. The boxes are half-metre wooden cubes, and the guards work alone to move the boxes into the warehouse. Gecko says, "It must be some precious cargo if there's so much effort put into just three tiny boxes."

Storm says, "I'm going to go in sometime while they're distracted. Can you guys tell me a good time?"

As Flint watches the guards, he notices how they're all very relaxed. Unless there's some urgent task in the brick building or some cargo to tend to, the guards seem to aimlessly stroll around, or even take the time to smoke. Flint says, "It should be any time now. Get ready."

Five seconds pass. The guards unload the last box and set it down right by the door. Lazily. Another five seconds. All guards are now outside of the warehouse. Then ten seconds pass. The guards lazily wander off in unison, all away from the open warehouse door where the boxes reside.

Flint says, "Go."

Through the windows in the warehouse, Flint sees a shadow creep around. It has a close call with some more precariously balanced boxes, and it slithers around when there is little cover. Finally, it arrives at the boxes and opens the first one.

Storm says, "Medicine and syringes."

Flint asks, "The next one?"

Storm moves onto the second box. The guards seem to regain their senses and begin marching back to the warehouse. Storm says, "Same thing in this one."

"Make the last one quick."

Storm opens the last box.

"Huh? This one's the same too."

Gecko: "What?"

Maverick: "What."

Flint: "What?"

Gecko says, "What do you mean, I thought-"

Flint says, "Anyway, Storm, they're about to head back. We can discuss this la-"

Then, the worst possible thing happens.

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

Storm says, "Shit, shit, shit!"

Gecko shouts, "What the hell is that sound?!"

The sound surrounds Flint like a stereo. If he had to place a location, it's coming from his collar-!

"It's the fucking radio! This little bastard Felix gave us is a fucking megaphone!"

Maverick says, "Storm, we're getting out of here. Now!"

Still, the beep doesn't stop. The team tears off Felix's radios. The guards rush into the warehouse, where Storm is right in the open. Storm quickly tosses a thunderclap into their faces and bolts away. Storm shouts, "Flint, shoot them!"

The thunderclap explodes in a flash of lightning. It knocks the guards off balance and stuns them for long enough for Flint to line up a shot. Flint pulls the trigger. The Deliverance sucks up the atmosphere, and then unleashes the pressure like a combustion engine, which sends the bullet flying in a sonic boom.

The explosion on impact is twenty feet wide.

Gecko says, "You killed four of them. Load up the next round."

However, four is not nearly enough. About fifteen guards are already visible, and even more are probably in the brick building, about to respond to the explosions and gunfire. Maverick takes the opportunity to trade fire with the guards, of which there are a few already in the warehouse and many more joining the fray.

Gecko says, "Flint, they've spotted us! Once you fire the second round, pack up."

One of the guards waves his buddies over and points out the pair's location. Gecko peppers bullets down range with his assault rifle. He manages to nail one guard in the shoulder, but the muzzle flash seems to attract the attention of even more guards.

Storm says, "I'm pinned down! I can't retreat."

Storm and Maverick are in a shootout with a rising number of guards. The guards steadily advance forwards.

Maverick says, "Throw an ice screen! I'll cover you while you run back."

At the same time, seven guards are spraying the hilltop with bullets. Surely there is very little accuracy at such long ranges, but Flint, under the darkness, can't see how closely the bullets zip by.

Crack! A bullet flies right by Flint's head. Shocked, Flint pulls the trigger haphazardly, causing him to miss horribly. Gecko says, "Whatever, Flint. Pack up! We're going!" The guards and Gecko fire at each other as Flint folds the Deliverance into the case. Flint hears a bullet strike the ground right beside his ear.

"Flint, hurry up!"

"I'm done."

Flint slithers out of the bushes, keeping as low as possible. The bullet cracks seem to come from every direction imaginable. Finally, they manage to crawl behind the hill. However, they still hear the sounds of gunshots in the distance. Gecko says, "Where are you guys?"

Storm says, "I've just scaled the wall!"

Maverick says, with a horrendous roar of gunshots in the background, "I'm going to follow. Just hurry!"

Flint and Gecko run through the field as fast as they can. With his night vision goggles, Flint can see the outlines of their hoverbikes. Flint goes so fast that he collides with the hoverbike in a split second lapse of concentration, but it's a long enough time for him to see what's wrong.

Flint says, "Gecko, the hoverbikes lost their hovers!"

"Their what?! Did Felix set them to dismantle themselves?"

"What do we do now?"

Flint and Gecko both scan the field: They can see far, far away. Uncomfortably so. Gecko says, "You guys hear? The hoverbikes are busted."

Storm says, "Seriously? That's messed up!"

"Rendezvous by the highway, now!"

Gecko runs off towards the direction of the nearby highway, and Flint chases after him. They run. The Deliverance case stresses Flint's shoulder. They run past debris and litter and branches. They run until they're completely out of breath, at which point they arrive at the road. In the distance, Storm is visible: His full-out sprint closes the distance very quickly.

Gecko says, "Where's Maverick?!"

Storm doesn't answer.

Flint feels a creeping sensation of dread.

A truck travels along at a modest pace down the nighttime country road. Gecko says, "Don't just stand there!" As Flint and Storm follow, he says, "Storm, throw a thunderclap."

Storm, in a daze, asks, "Why?"

"Just do it if you want to live!"

Storm scrambles his hands around his bandolier, fishes out the thunderclap, and throws it, creating a miniature lightning bolt and an appropriately loud sound. The truck slows down. Once it's close, its appearance becomes clear: Old-fashioned, white, and a surprised red-head at the steering wheel. As the headlights illuminate the three team members, Gecko points his assault rifle at the driver and shouts, "Get out of the truck!"

He fires a warning shot. The woman practically leaps out before running off screaming. Storm says, "What the hell Gecko?"

Gecko says, "You want to live? Then get in so we can get out of here!"

Gecko takes the drivers seat. With no other ideas, Flint rides shotgun. Storm seems to hesitate for a moment, but he ducks into the back. No later than when the rear doors close does Gecko slam on the gas pedal, catapulting the truck down the road. As they drive off into the horizon, Flint looks into the rear-view mirror: Four guards step onto the highway, look at the truck, and then walk back to where they came from.

Gecko says, "We're not out of the woods yet. Felix tried to get us killed with those loudspeaker radios, for whatever reason. Maybe Assia, or even the entire military council wants us dead. For now, we have to go into hiding."

Flint says, "Gecko..."

"First thing you guys should do is take off your gear. We have to look like civilians, not spec ops."

"Um..."

"Talk comes after. Do it."

Their lethargy overflowing, Flint and Storm slowly take off their body armour and goggles. Flint balls them up, and then he throws them beside Storm in the backseat along with the Deliverance case.

Storm clasps his head in his arms. He says, "Oh... this is happening, isn't it?"

Gecko's voice softens as he says, "Yeah, it is."

"Maverick's dead!"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Yeah."

Flint says, "'Cause fate is a sick bastard."

"Yeah."

Flint glares at Gecko. "Is this what we deserve? Is this our respect?"

Gecko's expression hardens. He says, "N-no, of course not."

"After Mistral, I thought we were done with this. We weren't supposed to get betrayed anymore! Why did this happen, Gecko? I believed you!"

Gecko seems taken aback. "Flint, I-"

"Maverick did too, right? So, why-"

Gecko shouts, "Shut it, Flint! I don't know either, okay?! Don't ask me this shit!"

Flint kicks the floor of the truck. "That's not an answer! Maverick died. We followed you!"

Gecko punches Flint's shoulder. Hard. He says, "And what do you know about Maverick? Did you have any interest in him?"

"..."

"How about me? Or Storm? Why is it that you only care now?"

"..."

Flint gives up and looks out the window in silence.

This is actually happening, isn't it.

After a while, Storm sheepishly says, "So, where are we heading?"

Gecko says, "Ember is a short distance away from here. We'll stock up on food and water, then hide and figure out a plan from there."

"A plan, huh."

The air seems to freeze. Not a single thing moves within the truck, except maybe Gecko's right foot. A half hour later, the three are greeted by a sign that says, "Welcome to Ember: Population 6,058."

At this time of night, the streets are nearly empty. The street lights bring a small amount of warmth: Flint relaxes a little.

A short distance ahead, Flint sees a gas station. He says, "We could stop there, right? Fill up the gas while we're at it."

Wordlessly, Gecko pulls into the gas station, where a bright yellow sign says, "Ember Gas Station 24/7."

Gecko stops by the pump. They all get out of the truck and feel the cool night breeze. Gecko says, "I'll fill up the gas. You guys go into the convenience store and get some food and water."

Flint walks up to and opens the door, with Storm's following closely behind. Inside the store, the cashier is watching the television. In the corner, Flint sees a surveillance camera: Better keep the head down low.

The cashier says, "Oh, not many people come at this time. Make it quick."

That doesn't need to be said. Flint reaches for some sandwiches and water bottles.

Just then, the volume of the television spikes. A red screen with the words, "NEWS FLASH" appears. Then, a female voice says, "One hour ago, the reopened Warehouse Complex C1 was attacked."

Oh no. Why a news flash now? News isn't supposed to come until sunrise!

"One of the terrorists, identified as Maverick Fort, was shot and killed by guards."

Terrorists?!

"Police are currently tracking down the three terrorists who have fled the scene. They are currently unidentified, although that is expected to change soon. We recommend that people who live on the northern edge of Hearth and those in Ember remain vigilant. Call Atlas police services if you have any information. We repeat, one hour ago..."

The cashier looks at Flint and Storm. Then he looks outside. Three guys in total. The cashier says, "Wait, isn't that Ginger's truck?"

Flint and Storm bolt out of the convenience store, food in hand. The cashier yells, "Hey, get back here!"

Gecko, who has been watching, pulls the gas nozzle out of the truck and jumps into the driver's seat. Flint and Storm scramble into the truck. As they slam the doors, Gecko drives off, leaving behind the cashier who has a scroll in hand, calling the cops.

They hurriedly drive through Ember and get out as fast as they can. Once Ember's streetlights are long gone, Gecko says, "So, Maverick's dead. But we're not dead yet."

Storm says, "Hmm, obviously not."

"From here on out, we absolutely cannot trust anyone besides each other. Maverick isn't around to protect us anymore. Only we can look out for each other."

Silence.

Flint says, "Fate's such an ass."

"Yeah."

"Kicked out of Atlas academy. Shot up in the military. And now we're terrorists. It just keeps getting worse."

Gecko sighs and says, "You know, Flint, I don't believe in luck, but I'd rather you not jinx us."

Storm says, "Well, if we're not relying on luck, then what are we doing?"

"We're going to find a place to park off the road and rest. We'll talk more at sunrise." They drive on.

Five minutes later, Gecko says, "Wait, we're making a stop over there."

Flint says, "Over where?"

"That country house. You see it?"

On the horizon, Flint can see the outline of a tiny country house. "Yeah, I see it. But why?"

"As a rural child in the past, I can say that country homes always have dust hidden somewhere. Can't rely on the cops to save you, you know."

"So we're breaking into a house for dust? That sounds like a terrible idea, honestly."

"It is, but it's not like we have any other options in the long run. We have to take whatever dust we can get. We're going in."

Gecko shuts off the headlights. They slow down to a crawl as the truck goes onto the gravel driveway. Gecko whispers, "We're going to have to be very quiet. Also, Storm, take your machine pistols."

Storm already has them out. He unenthusiastically says, "You don't have to tell me."

They silently get out of the truck. Storm leads the way. He creeps up the porch and takes a lockpick to the door. Shortly after, the lock clicks open. Storm turns back. He nods at the others, and they nod back. Slowly, slowly, slowly, does he push open the door. With equal caution, Flint and Gecko follow Storm into the house.

Just like its exterior, the house is cramped inside. Flint looks around. Catching his eye are the tiny sofa, the tiny television, and the pile of boxes. The kitchen is connected to the living room, with pots and pans lazily left over the stove. Off to the side of the kitchen is a door. Silently, Flint approaches the door. He, so slowly, turns the knob. Inside is a bedroom, wherein a woman lies. Asleep. Flint turns back and puts a finger on his mouth. Gecko and Storm nod back.

Gecko whispers, "It'll probably be in a locker. Flint, look in the bedroom. Storm and I will keep looking around here."

Flint nods. He enters the bedroom. He takes care not to look at the woman's face, as if doing so would set off an alarm. Who knew that he would use sniper stealth training to raid a woman's bedroom? Flint takes a peek around. He looks through the nightstand. The drawers. Nothing, but there's still the bathroom. Flint creeps inside.

This feels dirty.

He opens the medicine cabinet.

Then.

Suddenly.

He hears the bathroom light switch get SLAMMED on.

The lights flicker to life.

A voice nonchalantly says, "If you're going to break into my house, at least don't look in the bathroom."

Flint whirls around.

There, right beside him, is someone that he could never forget. A person that he hoped he would never see. A trick of fate.

A head shorter than him.

Long silver hair.

Grey irises.

Standing before him, is Glass Decorous.


	5. Chapter 5: Threat

Chapter 5: Threat

"Ah...ah..."

Flint hasn't been breathing for the past five seconds.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um...uh..."

Glass stares Flint down. There is no emotion in her eyes. Glass's nightgown loosely follows her figure down. Barefoot.

Flint hears a ruckus from the living room, and then the bedroom. Storm approaches Glass from behind, machine pistol pointed at her head. He says, "Get down on the ground. Now." Glass instinctively turns around.

Flint says, "Storm, lower the gun."

Storm hesitates, although he keeps his aim trained on Glass: She is frozen solid. Gecko, following Storm, says, "Remember what we just talked about in the truck."

Storm's eyes dart back and forth, his arms shaking. Finally, he flicks the safety and holsters the gun. He says, with some spite, "Damn it, Gecko. At least not today." However, his expression turns from one of frustration into one of shock as he takes a closer look at Glass's face. "Wait."

Gecko gazes at her too and says, "Oh... Glass Decorous, right?"

Glass relaxes her muscles, her eyes still empty. She strolls off in the direction of the living room, tiredly muttering, "Yeah, that's right. If you guys aren't going to shoot me, I guess I'm a bit happy, you could say."

As she walks away, Storms whispers, "Well, what now?"

Gecko shakes his head in bewilderment, but motions to follow her. Storm goes ahead, while Gecko grabs Flint's shoulder and whispers into his ear, "Just this time, you let your emotions get in the way. Understand?"

Flint nods.

They all follow Glass to find her sitting on the sofa, TV remote in hand. She says, "Call this a detective's intuition, but you guys aren't nearly as bad as they said on TV, right?"

Gecko says, "We weren't on the TV."

Glass yawns. "If you're going to lie, at least try. It's still going on right now." She turns on the TV. "Look."

Instead of the red letters of the news flash, the television shows three faces. Their faces. The 4 o'clock morning news is on.

The elderly anchor says, "...the terror keeps on coming, doesn't it? First the factory tragedy, and now this. These men must be stopped. If you see any of these men: Gecko Chamro, Flint Lattice, or Storm Nino, call the police immediately. Do not approach them. They are armed and dangerous. We'll keep you covered as the information comes, although we only expect the details once the formal investigation begins later this morning. For now, I'm here with a criminal psychologist-"

Glass turns it off. She says, "So, you guys know how royally screwed you are. Although you should really thank yours truly."

Flint asks, "You? For what?"

She answers, "I don't give a damn. I have no clue why I'm bothering with you guys. Maybe I'm bored? It's always an option for you to shoot me, right?" Then, she reclines on the sofa. "Actually, it isn't. I just had some self reflection, and I don't think I want to die yet."

Gecko marches to her side and towers over her. He says, "If you don't want to die, then explain everything you say. If you know something, say it." Gecko curls his fingertips like claws. "Or you'll regret it."

Glass evades all eye contact. As she sits back up, Glass says, "You're pulling out the threats? I guess I have no choice anymore."

"You never had a choice," says Gecko.

This time, Storm is the one to pull Gecko aside. He whispers, "Man, chill."

Gecko says, "About what?"

In the background, Glass mutters, "Tic, tic, tic, hurry it up."

Storm whispers, "Don't you get the feeling too? Like... she knows something very important. Or things. Threatening her isn't going to get them out."

Gecko glares at Storm, but backs off. He says, "Have it your way. Clearly I should shut up. Clearly."

Storm shifts his gaze to Glass, a grimace on his face. He tells Glass, "We don't want to hurt you, for now, so start from the beginning."

"Well," she says, "I don't plan on going back to sleep, so this is a good way to pass the time, I suppose. Before you guys got here, I was spending my night watching a lame-ass show about some armoured guys fighting over flags in some canyon."

Flint asks, "You were watching a TV show... for the whole night?"

"What else was I supposed to do? Be a terrorist? Oh-M-gee, you guys are ree-tarded."

Storm says, "Get on with it."

"Fine, fine." Glass folds her arms, a dreamy look on her face. "So, I was watching the show when suddenly, a news flash came on. I was like, 'oh no, the White Fang is coming,' but it turns out some guy got shot up. Then, the flame-dusted coffee I drank earlier was wearing off, so I got another cup, this time with just a smidge more fire. I decided to finish the episo-"

Storm says, "Are you screwing with us?"

"No?"

"Then skip to the important stuff."

Glass leaps off the sofa and walks right up to Storm—Close enough for their breath to touch. The softness in her eyes and cheeks recede as if blown away. She says, "Do you have what it takes to survive?"

"What?"

"I said, do you have what it takes to survive?"

"We were in the military. Of course we do!"

"It doesn't look like it! You were looking for dust in my house, right? Well, I just told you where it was. Not only failing to look hard enough in the kitchen, but also not picking up what I said. Maybe I was screwing around earlier, and I guess I still am, but at least I'm not an idiot!"

Storm clenches his fists. "You little-"

Flint cuts between them. He clamps Glass's shoulders in his palms and says, "Stop. I don't want us to do anything that we'll regret—again. So please, stop."

"Again?" Glass cocks her head to the side. Then, she smiles. A warm one, in spite of the situation. She says, "Okay, I'll stop. I've learned everything I wanted to anyway."

As Glass pushes Flint away, he says, "Learned?"

She points at Gecko and says, "He wants to kill me." She points at Storm. "His patience runs out really quickly, and dangerously." She points at Flint. "You, Flinty boy, would probably let me live for the next day. I don't really get why, but it is how it is."

As Glass speaks, Flint turns his head around to look at Gecko: He delivers a very firm look.

Disapproving.

Flint says, "And what if we shot you?"

"Then I wouldn't live very long anyway, even if I said nothing."

Fair enough. As sketchy as the logic is, there's no denying its success.

Glass, although her face remains soft, takes on a more serious expression. She says, "I'll tell you what you want to know. Why I'm helping you, for starters." Glass turns the TV back on, with its sound muted. As they watch the anchor ramble, Glass says, "I've never trusted the news. Atlas is a total dictatorship, after all. But what happened on Sunday really sealed it for me."

Flint asks, "What happened?"

"I got to be a detective on the case for a day. For the... you know..."

Flint catches his pointer finger unconsciously twitching. He stops, and luckily, Glass was paying more attention to the TV screen.

Glass continues, "Sorry, I'll get back on track. When I saw your faces, I had a feeling it wasn't a terrorist attack. After all, what kind of terrorists attack a compound in the middle of the night? And why would they report it so quickly? I figured you guys were set up, so when I saw you guys driving up here I went back to bed."

Now, Storm breaks his own silence and asks, "Hold on, how did you know it was us?"

"Do you know your borders? Well, this house is right by one. There's nothing down the road for the next ten minutes. At the end, you'll find Atlas army. Go past that, a ton of Grimm. Not even our military is willing to risk expanding into the Dead Zone. Since no one comes by the road here, ever, I knew you guys were on the run. Also, that truck. You jacked it."

Flint says, "Jacked it?"

"That truck is Ginger's. Was Ginger's. She's the assistant manager of a fast food restaurant in Ember. Anyway, given that, it was obvious that it was you guys, so I decided to lend a helping hand. I turned off the only source of light in my house—the TV, and tucked in, knowing that people like you would try to break in."

Flint says, "I see. That's what you wanted us to thank you for."

Gecko scoffs, "Thank her for?"

"If she didn't turn off the TV, we would have gone right past this house and into... the..."

He looks at Glass. She gives a smile.

"Oh," he says. "Shit. We have to hurry this up."

Storm asks, "Why?"

"The military patrols! They're going to come here any second! And she knows! She's still toying with us!"

Storm takes a gun out, training it on Glass. He says, "You're right. My patience does run out quickly."

Flint forces his gun back down. "You can't! If you do, we'll never escape! Even if we run off now, her corpse is proof we were here!"

Glass says, "Let me make this clear. I don't want you guys to get caught. I would love for rebels like you to shove it up the military council's ass! But you have to prove your worth to me, and I'm not easy to please." Her eyes narrow. "So, please me."

Flint ponders her request. He says, "Alright. I'll start with what we were doing this night."

Storm gives a nervous look to Flint and says, "Are you sure?"

Flint nods.

Flint briefly tells her everything, minus the details of the Deliverance, in case she makes the connection between it and her cousins. He tells her of their background as ex-military turned assassins, and their plan, and how it went wrong, and how Maverick died, and their escape. It takes no more than five minutes. By the end, Glass is wide-eyed.

"Oh," Glass says, "I'm sorry to hear about your friend. Really. But my sympathy is the least of your concerns. You once went to Atlas academy, correct?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Then you joined the military. And did you use the same rifle the entire time?"

"It worked well, so I never felt like changing it."

"I see." Glass puffs her cheeks as she recounts, "A rifle capable of one-shotting Ursa... useful at extreme ranges... secret service legal... it must be a HAMOD Deliverance, detective intuition says. Hmm..."

The light reflects off Glass's eyes. Flint's heart skips a beat. Hunting and Assassination MODification kit; Assassination kit.

She says, "Ah, whatever, it was a lucky guess. It comes with a Bullet Compositor, correct?"

Flint turns back for a moment, hides a sigh of relief, and faces her once more. He says, "Yeah, it does. What about it?"

"It means that if I let you guys drive off into the wilderness, you'll get caught for sure."

As Flint sees it, it seems like Glass is far from satisfied. He says, "How much dust do you want?"

"That's more like it!" Glass smirks. "It's true that everyone has a price, and dust certainly is the gold standard."

Gecko hurriedly says, "Wait Flint, we can't gi-"

"Before you get ahead of yourselves," says Glass, "My price can't be bought. Try again."

Flint studies Glass: Is there anything that would give her away? All he sees is her knowing smile, and the tone of her voice carries disappointment. At the same time, it bears a heightened expectation.

Meaning that he should already know what she wants.

"Glass," says Flint, "What did you just say about the Bullet Compositor?"

Glass stays silent.

"You said something like, 'if you guys drive off, you'll get caught.' What did you mean by that?"

Still no reply.

"You said it like we'd get caught because of it. How?"

Glass begins clapping. She says in a dry voice, "Congratulations, you passed! Hooray." As she plays with her hair, she continues, "Okay, no more secrets, for real this time. You caught that out, so at least Flint has a decent head on his shoulders. I'll help, at least for now."

Storm says, "'For now?' I don't like the sound of that."

"You shouldn't, but it's the way it is." Glass goes to the front door of her house. She says, "The Deliverance case is in Ginger's—I mean, your truck, right? I've worked with Assia agents in the past, and to put it simply, there's probably a tracking device in the Bullet Compositor. It's agency policy to hide trackers in the bulkier equipment."

She opens the door and motions for them to go outside. Gecko says, "Do you seriously want us to destroy it?"

Glass says, "If you want to survive, do what I tell you. You guys take your truck, drive into the field, and dump the Bullet Compositor. Then, rejoin the road about one, maybe one-and-a-half kilos down, ditch the truck, and run back. It'll look like you abandoned the truck, but they won't know where you went. When you get back, I'll hide you before the army comes."

Gecko says, "And that's all, right? No more secrets."

"Yes, so hurry! You don't have long."

Glass practically shoves them out of her house. As she looks down the road both ways from her doorstep, she says, "The response time here is half an hour, so you probably have ten minutes. Good luck." Glass walks back into her house as the three men drive the truck off the road and into the open field.

Gecko, at the wheel says, "That girl is terrible."

Storm says, "No objections here."

Flint says, "Yeah. Smug and annoying. Maybe even punchable."

Gecko continues, "I wonder what Maverick would think. We barely escaped, and now we're relying on the girl whose cousins we shot."

Storm asks, "You think she knows?"

Gecko says, "I'd hope not. Doesn't really matter right now, anyway."

Flint says, "What annoys me is the tracking device. Felix never told us about it. We were pawns the moment I handed my Deliverance over for inspection."

Storm says, "I always thought that I could do some good for Atlas, but even Assia is messed up to its core. Is the military council just careless? Do they hate their own kingdom or what?"

Gecko says, "I'd be careful about going down that path, Storm. Atlas still comes first. We signed with the military for a reason, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Actually," Gecko continues, "That's wrong. We come first, and Atlas second. Can't do anything if we're dead."

Storm says, "Right. We jacked this truck from an innocent Atlesian."

"Survival first, Atlas a close second. I think we should keep that in mind." Then, Gecko hits the brakes. "I think this is far enough. Flint, can you throw out the Bullet Compositor?"

"On it," says Flint as he opens the Deliverance case. "How long has it been?"

"Just two minutes, but we have to go fast."

Flint, after unfastening the dust canisters, unceremoniously tosses the Bullet Compositor out the window like trash. Gecko turns the truck towards the road and presses down the gas. He says, "That's actually sad. Six years, only to be abandoned in some field."

Flint says, "More like ten years for me."

"Sucks, doesn't it."

Flint looks out the window as they drive through the field. In the distance, the pitch black sky is giving away to dark blue. They approach the road and Gecko says, "You guys grab everything, we can't waste any time."

Flint holds the handle of the Deliverance case and the side of his body armour. Flint also reaches for Gecko's body armour, which he wraps around the dust canisters. The grip is awkward, but manageable.

Gecko says, "We're going to be stopping in about five seconds. Get ready."

Flint slings Gecko's armour over the shoulder, freeing up a hand to open the door at a moment's notice. The truck jerks to a stop: The three dart out of the truck and down the road.

Storm says, "That girl, if she just told us at the beginning, we wouldn't have to run like this!"

Gecko says, "Less talking, more running. You'll need it!"

So they run. Gecko's armour starts to slide down Flint's back. Gecko's arms, suspending his assault rifle, steadily go limp. The grenades strung around Storm's bandolier rattle as his feet hit the pavement.

They've spend three minutes driving and two minutes running, but Glass's house is still far in the horizon. Flint thinks as he runs: Annoying, annoying! I know I shot your cousins, but screw you! I'll punch you out one day!

Another two minutes. From their perspective, the house has barely moved. But something else appears on the horizon too.

Storm says, "Those are flashlights! They're coming!"

Gecko mutters, "If we get caught, we're totally taking her with us!"

Two more minutes. The house is in clear view. They're exhausted.

Flint pants and says, "They... must... see us, by now."

They finally reach the doorstep, somehow. Glass opens the door for them and says, "Damn, you guys waging war against Atlas or what?"

She holds a coffee packet in her hand. Gecko says, "What the fu... that for?"

Glass says, "Push the sofa out of the way!"

Together, the four of them grab Glass's sofa and push it aside. As Glass tears open the coffee packet, she says, "There's a chemical lock here. It's activated by my flame-dusted coffee."

Glass rubs the place where the front-right leg was. There's an indent that's almost invisible. She shakes a pinch of coffee onto the indent, and the floorboards slide open. Glass says, "It's dark down there. Watch your step."

From the top of the opening and down to the bottom of the secret room, a wooden stepladder hangs from the floorboards. Flint, Gecko, and Storm scurry down into the secret room while Glass says, "Be quiet."

They set their equipment down. Glass presses on the indent, which closes up the floorboards, shrouding the secret room in darkness. However, there is enough light for Flint to see what is inside. Piles of non-perishable food and water bottles line the walls. A few assorted dust canisters. But there's also something else.

A hybrid gun-sword.

Flint whispers, "Why would she have that?"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The door opens.

Then, a stampede of footsteps and mechanical servos. A robotic voice says, "Freeze. This is part of a military search. Please remain calm."

As Glass follows the command, a gruff voice says, "Alpha and Beta, search the inside of this house! Gamma, Delta, look outside!"

Four robotic voices chant in unison, "Affirmative, sergeant."

As the robots split off, the sergeant shouts, "Slut! Where are they?!"

Glass says, "They, um-!"

A scuffle. Glass yelps. The sergeant says, "No um's or ah's. It's a simple question. I saw them come in here!"

The cock of a gun.

Glass says, "That was me! I was just looking!"

"You were just looking? We tracked them to this house!"

"They left a few minutes ago. They drove off into the field!"

"And you didn't learn anything else? They were here for at least twenty minutes, there's no way you didn't hear anything!"

"I didn't! Please!"

A robot says, "Sergeant, there are tire treads going east onto the field."

Another robot says, "Sergeant, the three suspects are not in this house."

The sergeant says, "Stay with me. I still want to talk with this girl."

Then, a familiar voice. A man's voice. It says, "Aw, shucks. I was a bit late. Sorry about that, Decorous."

Glass says, "You!"

The sergeant says, "What's this about? This is under the border division!"

"Well," the man says, "It's not anymore." There's the sound of leather flipping open. "It's under secret service now. Have your Ambassadors stand down, sergeant."

Glass says, "Felix, what the hell are you doing here?"

Felix?

Felix says, "That's for another time. But first..." Another robotic stampede. "I really suggest you stand down, sergeant. For your sake."

"Damn," says the sergeant, "Damn you! Ambassadors, follow me!"

His Ambassador robots chant, "Affirmative, sergeant."

The sergeant and his Ambassadors leave the house.

Felix says, "Sorry about the scary entrance. Long time no see, right?"

"Scumbag," says Glass. "What are you doing here?"

"My men came here just now. I intended to come here to stop the military from shooting them up, but it seems I was a bit late. You got my men to leave before the military stormed your house, right? Thank you."

"So you're their handler... I see. Why did you betray them?"

"They told you about that, that's good. You see, I never wanted any of them to actually die, but it is how it is. I just wanted them to be terrorists."

"Ridiculous! Why in hell would you want that? They're your men!"

"Ha! You haven't changed either. It feels good to see you again."

"Screw you!"

"More to the point, I have a reason for everything that happened tonight."

"Of course you do. You always do."

"Listen to me, Decorous. This concerns you, and you'll want to remember everything so you can tell them when they come back. They did say they would come back, right?"

"Yes, yes they did."

"So here's the deal: I want them to find and kill the Stalker."

"That guy who killed ninety huntsmen?"

"Ninety-three. I suppose the agency could work to track down the Stalker, but I'm a busy man, so I've decided to provide some motivation for you to track them down instead!"

"Motivated? I've been stuck in my house for days, and I don't want to leave anytime soon."

"My dear Decorous, my men are probably pissed. Damn pissed, and pissed at you. You're going to want to tell them something that will calm them down, so I'll give you that something."

"Don't pretend that you're helping me."

"But I am, right? I'm helping you get out of your house. Consider this a favour, from a friend."

Glass scoffs.

Felix says, "Simply put, I have a decent amount of power, and I've made an arrangement with the military council. If my men can kill the Stalker, they'll be granted amnesty from all crimes committed nationally or internationally. Isn't that fantastic?"

"And where do I fit in here?"

"You're a detective, right? And a damn good one at that. I'm sure they know that too, so you'll be accompanying them."

"I refuse."

"Decorous." Felix's voice deepens. "It's time you realize who has power here. You have absolutely none. None. You'll leave with them by tomorrow afternoon."

"But-!"

"You leave tomorrow! I'll come by in the evening. If you're still here, I'll arrange for the border to maybe... shrink a little."

"You-you wouldn't!"

"I can and I will. You better do what I say, Decorous."

"Wait, did you order for my cousins to be killed?"

Felix is silent.

Glass says, "My cousins always play four-man poker games, yet only three died. Was the fourth man yours? Did he set off a bomb?"

Felix is still silent.

"You killed them, so that only I would be home alone, because the other two people who would usually live here are dead. And then, you tasked your four guys with attacking that compound near Ember, knowing they would pass through the town while trying to escape. Past the town, my house is the only thing until the Dead Zone. They would come in, I'd help them, and you would give me this damn quest! You planned all of it, didn't you!"

Then, Felix's voice lightens up. He says, "Well, as always, it was nice seeing you again! Good night, or rather, good morning, Decorous."

"Answer me!"

"Good morning, Decorous."

Felix and his massive entourage of machines leave the house. After the door closes, not a thing moves.

Find the Stalker.

Ninety-three victims.

Kill the Stalker.

Amnesty.

These thoughts race through Flint's mind. Finally, after a minute, Glass sheepishly says, "You guys, the latch is openable from the bottom. Come out."

Flint grabs the latch, pulls open the floorboards, and climbs up. He says, "We heard it all."

Next, it's Gecko's turn to come out, but he's holding his assault rifle. No sooner than when he climbs out does he aim at Glass. Gecko says, "We're expecting absolute loyalty from now on."

Glass looks down at the floor. She says, "Yeah, yeah. I know."

As Flint looks at Glass's face, he realizes that, for the first time, her face is flushed. Glass says, "You guys better get some sleep. You've been awake for the whole night too, and I'd be damned if Felix allows Dead Zone Ursa to overrun this house."

Storm climbs out. He says, "How do you know Felix?"

Glass says, "That can wait. Sleep on the sofa, the floor, under the floorboards, wherever. It's 4:30 right now, so we'll wake up at noon."

Gecko says, "I'll keep watch. We can't have you running off."

"You don't have to worry about that. Where would I go anyway? Even if I ran off, you'd have to find me, and you'd do it eventually. If you didn't, Felix would kill me. I don't have a choice." Glass walks into her bedroom. She says, "Sweet dreams," turns off the lights, and slams the door.

Storm says, "Might as well rest, right?"

After a bout of rock-paper-scissors, Flint earns the right to sleep on the sofa, while Gecko and Storm are forced to sleep on the floor.

Gecko, gazing up at ceiling, says, "Sorry Maverick, but we don't have a choice except to work for that scumbag."

Flint can't help but feel terrible too. What would Maverick think?

To survive from now on, they'd have to follow the word of the man who betrayed them. They'd have to hold captive the girl whose cousins they killed.

And to survive, they'd have to carry out the impossible task of tracking and killing the Stalker.

A serial killer who has killed huntsmen in a number approaching one hundred.

As Flint dozes off, he mutters, "What... can I do...?"


	6. Chapter 6: Disguise

Chapter 6: Disguise

"Wake up guys, I've brought lunch."

Flint slowly opens his eyes as he hears the door close. He sits up from the sofa to see Glass in loose, ripped jeans and a black sweater holding a grocery bag. She says, "We're going to Hearth today, right?"

Flint rubs his eyes. "Why would we go back there?"

Gecko takes his assault rifle, which was resting on his chest, and places it on the floor. He says, "We threw out the Bullet Compositor yesterday. We didn't take any standard ammo with us, so we have to find somebody willing to sell us some."

Storm says, "I know some people in Faunustown who would sell ammo and overlook it, but we can't go out in public. We're terrorists now, according to the news."

Glass sets the grocery bag down on the kitchen counter. Inside are four plastic boxes whose contents include incomprehensible combinations of tomato sauce, bread, and meat. She says, "I have a plan for that, but you guys should eat up first."

Glass chucks the meals at them. Flint opens his box to find a cheap mass of base nutrition. "Why did you-?"

Flint is cut off by the monstrous tearing of Glass's box. She says, "It does me no good if you guys starve to death, or if we stay late."

They eat. A few minutes go by in silence.

Storm prods one of his meatballs with the pre-packaged fork and asks, "Hey, what's your plan?"

Glass says, "I can get you guys into Wiretown."

Storm raises his eyebrows. "Wiretown? The nerd street?"

Gecko swallows down a grotesquely shaped lob of chicken. He says, "It's a good idea. Wiretown is accessible by wheel, and its also far enough inside Hearth to go from there to any place we want. Including Faunustown."

Glass, having already finished her meal, crumples up the box and throws it onto the stove. She says, "I think so too. Faunustown is a criminal scum-hole. To hide your identities, you can't exactly hide your faces with military helmets. The moment a cop decides to question you, it would be over. Instead, you guys will act as cosplayers for the Superclub Bar's annual 'Heroes of Helios' fancon."

Storm says, "Two things: One, that's nerdy as hell. Two, where the hell will we get costumes?"

Glass lazily opens the door to her bedroom. "My cousins' outfits are still in my closet. Pick and choose what you want, I won't do it for you." She climbs onto her still unmade bed, sprawls out, and says, "I've called my friend, Viola, to go with us. She has an apartment in Wiretown. I've told her that you guys are cosplay buddies, and that you guys are cops I have the 'pleasure' of investigating the Stalker with."

Gecko glares at Glass. He says, in baritone, "Are you sure that's alright?"

Glass waves her hand in the air, as if slapping someone in the face. "Yeah, it is. She isn't too bright, so she goes to a piano conservatory. We might stay at her apartment for a bit, and you guys probably don't know your way around Wiretown. She'll be useful."

Storm says, "I know Wiretown, it's fine." Glass raises her head slightly, peering at Storm through the bedroom doorframe. Storm continues, "I go through it often, since it's right by the... you know..."

"Military graveyard," finishes Gecko. Flint feels his heart drop.

Glass says, "Oh, true. By the way, you guys are familiar with Heroes of Helios, right?"

In the next moment, Flint is the only one to answer, "Yeah, I am."

Storm says, "Wow, you still watch that show. That show is ten years old, isn't it?"

Flint closes up his box, having finished his meal too. "Eleven years, actually. They had some legal issues with Teen's Network, so there was a break between the second and third season."

Gecko says, "I don't even know what the characters look like. What's it about?"

Flint rubs his chin. "Basically, it's a fictional world where Atlas splits off into the western kingdom of Helios and the eastern kingdom of New Mistral. There are four huntsmen: Noirre, a black armoured knight; Vertan, a green ranger; Rouge, a red guy who injects flame dust into himself; Then there's Violet, the token assassin girl. There's also a bad guy, a general from Mistral called Malimist, who keeps trying to kidnap members of the Helios military council. That's the gist of it."

Then, Glass shouts, "Malimist is only brainwashed and follows the orders of the Helios military council to-!"

Flint shouts even louder, "Shut up, you shitty spoiler girl!"

Glass lets out a dry giggle. Flint can feel Gecko's disapproving eyes without even looking. Glass says, "Enough memery. The first thing we have to do is pack my car, because we aren't coming back here."

Storm says, "We don't have the truck anymore, remember?"

Glass says, "My car, not the truck. It's behind the house." She gets off her bed and takes the half-used coffee packet from earlier off the kitchen counter. The sofa hasn't been moved back over the trapdoor; The chaos may have drawn Felix's attention away from the sofa's obvious misplacement. "You guys can leave the trash anywhere, I don't care."

Storm immediately chucks his half-finished box onto her bed. According to her word, she ignores the mess and opens the chemical lock on the trapdoor.

Not much time later, the three men go around to the back of the house, as per Glass's word, to find a shabby blue sedan. They are holding all of their equipment—armour and dust canisters included. As they examine the car, Glass joins them, key chain in hand. She fits one of the keys into the trunk lock and lifts it open.

"I have some of my own things I want to bring," says Glass as she heads back into the house. The three men have a silent debate over how to pack the trunk: Should the weapons hide behind the Deliverance case, or be easily accessible? By the end, they compromise to the end of ineffectiveness, with Storm's machine pistols behind the case and Gecko's assault rifle to the outside. After everything else is packed in, one would say from a mile away that Atlas was under a terrorist attack.

Glass arrives with her hands full of the dust canisters from the secret room. Flint says, "By the way, what's on your back?"

Glass packs the dust canisters into the trunk. She reaches for the sheathed blade on her back and says, "You're not the only one who wanted to be a huntsman." Once everything is packed, they head back inside to choose their disguises.

Ten minutes later...

"So you're a Rouge guy," Flint says to Storm.

Storm puts on the costume's demon mask as he looks in the mirror. He says, "Yuck, I look like a barbarian..."

"Or a Mistroll," says Glass.

"...And that's really, really racist." Storm looks over to Gecko, who puts on Vertan's reptilian mask. "That doesn't look too bad."

Gecko says, "The Mistrolls deserve all insults they get. I like 'Jungle Monkeys' more, though."

While Flint puts on Malimist's troll mask, he asks Glass, "You aren't dressing up, then?" Glass is still in her plain clothes. She doesn't respond to Flint's question; Instead, her face freezes into a scowl as she watches the three of them. Flint says, "Hey, you listening?"

Glass snaps out of it. After blinking twice, she says, "I don't feel like it, but there's another male costume in the closet if you don't like Malimist."

"I'm fine, tha-"

Flint shuts up: Glass's words are like a punch in the face.

Gecko glares at her. "You, shut the fuck up."

"Hmmm," says Glass as she plays with her hair, "Maybe you should pull the gun on me again." Before any of them can respond, she walks away. "I'll be waiting in the car."

As they follow her, a heavy sensation briefly dampens their already terrible moods. Vertan takes shotgun, Malimist and Rouge take the backseats, and an unwilling companion takes the wheel.

Flint says, "Wait, did you lock the house? We have to—agh!"

The car lurches as Glass pushes the gas pedal. "If Felix is going to check on my house, I'd rather he turn the knob than break the lock open."

As they speed down the road towards Ember, Flint turns around. "But we didn't even check the house, so—agh!"

Glass slams down the gas harder. "Shut up, I don't have the mood for you right now." She glares at Flint through the rear-view mirror. "Actually, there's something worth talking about."

Gecko says, "If you're thinking of bringing up Maverick again, you're not going to like what happens."

"No, no. I'm not that petty. The arrangement is to meet Viola at Superclub Bar's front door. After that, some of us should go in, and the others should go to Faunustown."

Storm says, "I'll go to Faunustown with Flint. I know some people there who wouldn't care to call the cops on us."

Gecko says, "It looks like I'm going with Glass. By the way, what do you know about the Stalker? You're a detective, so do you know anything about the investigation?"

Glass shakes her head. "All I know is that ninety-three huntsmen died. I haven't been able to participate at all."

Gecko says, "We have to fill you in on the details, then. Felix told us, for our mission yesterday, that our target was a Stalker suspect. He told us a few things about the investigation."

"I see. But honestly, can we save it for later? I'm... as I've said, not in the mood."

To be more accurate, no one is in the mood. They may have been wearing ridiculous costumes, but the events of last night are still fixed in their minds. They pass through the town of Ember, the traffic as if nothing has happened. Despite the alleged terrorism in the area, the town, at least on the surface level, proceeds with daily life.

They join the main highway en route to Northern Hearth amidst a variety of vehicles. Hovers, supercars, limos: Name it, you can find it. At the same time, Glass's sedan is clearly out of place. Before long, a massive silvery arch appears in the distance, with a sign's saying, in gold letters, "Welcome to Hearth!" Far in the distance, the city's bustling downtown is visible, with trains and flying cars encircling the skyscrapers. After passing through the arch, Glass drives up a ramp to join the Hearth ring road. On the ring road, the other vehicles bridge the gap between the sedan and the ones on the highway; they are of merely decent status.

Storm says, "Isn't Wiretown on 23rd street? Go to the right lane."

Glass blinks twice. "Oh, that's right."

They exit off the highway, and are greeted by a massive traffic jam. The line of traffic leading off the exit ramp is seemingly endless. Glass says, "This is why I hate the fancon. Every shitty Mistroll driver comes over and clogs up the city."

Storm says, "So that's why the traffic is always garbage at this time of year."

"By the way, that was an invitation to tell me about the investigation. I mean, pissed-Glass is easier to talk to than depressive-Glass."

Gecko says, "You're terrible."

"I know, but in the interest of time, right?"

Gecko explains to her what they learned: That the victims were spread out seemingly randomly and untrackably; That they were all criminal huntsmen; That the Stalker is probably inside, or at least near Hearth. That poison darts were found in the victims, although the precise delivery method was unknown. While Gecko explains, Glass's eyes take on noticeably more energy.

"Fascinating," says Glass. "There are quite a few possibilities I can gather from what you've said, but for now I'll tell you the likely criminal profile."

Flint says, "Criminal profile?"

The traffic is still stuck, but Glass doesn't seem bothered in the least. "A criminal profile is a hypothesis of sorts, where you use information to identify likely culprit traits. What's so fascinating is that the information seems contradictory."

"Contradictory? It just looks like we don't know much."

"But what little is there is contradictory. From what I've heard, the Stalker sounds like someone more well-versed on huntsmen than huntsmen themselves, yet is not a competent huntsman themselves."

Gecko says, "I can't imagine a bad huntsman killing 93 others. That's crazy, isn't it?"

"Not really, in my opinion. My explanation starts from the five properties of Aura, first proposed by Atlas's Arnold Ironheart and Vale's Cerulia Coral. Are you familiar with it?"

The three men shake their head, and Storm says, "Never heard of it, sounds really complicated."

"Well, of course you don't," says Glass, a bit of frustration in her voice. "I used to be part of an activist group for teaching the science of aura in our schools, especially in huntsmen academies. Obviously it was pointless, since you don't know. That's why I'm going to tell you about it now. You better listen, because I hate repeating myself."

Gecko says, "Yeah, yeah, Professor Decorous."

Glass glares at Gecko. "Don't call me that. Call me Glass, and Glass only." She drives a few car-lengths forward. "Anyway, the main reason why they don't teach it is because the zeroth and first properties are quite sacrilegious. It's possible to explain the basics of it to a grade schooler, so difficulty obviously isn't the problem. The zeroth property is that aura must obey all other laws of the universe."

Flint says, "That's not sacrilegious at all."

"Well, it can be taken as such. Basically, the zeroth property assumes naturalism: That there is no supernatural explanation for any of aura's properties. No spirit or god is involved in the functionality of aura. While it's confusing to have a zeroth property, it's necessary for defining the perspective to take on the other properties. The first—well technically second—property is that aura acts as a highly dense, conductive, and particulate fluid. Kind of like a thick film around your body that's part of your bloodstream."

Flint says, "That isn't sacrilegious either, and that doesn't seem to explain how aura can be used to heal. Or semblance."

"People have problems with a fluid aura, rather than mystical god-mist, like the god-mist Mistrolls believe in. Anyway, there's debate over how an aura has properties like semblance, but the five properties aren't meant to explain those. It sets a baseline for how they are possible, and it's stood up to the test of time, in the scientific community at least. For example, while we can argue over how the aura 'knows' how to heal your booboos, it's parallel in functionality with the cells in your bloodstream. No problem, right? The second property is that aura, as a fluid, has cohesive properties on an individual level. In other words, the older and more experienced you are, the more fluid your aura has and the stronger it is."

Gecko says, "But our auras have always been complete garbage. We're in no way stronger."

"Well, you haven't gotten weaker. You must be at least slightly stronger than before. The third property is that aura is an open system, and relies on such. In layman's terms: In order to release energy or do work, aura must have energy intake."

Storm says, "Is that why my Rogue guy injects flame dust into himself? For energy?"

Flint says, "It's Rouge, not Rogue."

"Correct," says Glass. "Dust is a common method to enhance aura. This property outlines the limit for what aura can do. You can summon monsters or make massive explosions, as long as the energy comes from somewhere. This may seem obvious from the zeroth property, but it's quite important in the scientific community for modelling aura as a system."

Flint says, "You've heard of the story of the Four Maidens, right?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"So according to the third property, the Four Maidens is an impossible tale."

Glass snorts, the sound unclear as to whether its of condescension, amusement, or both. "It's funny, and I quite enjoyed the rumours of women wielding 'unlimited elemental powers' that arose over the years. At the same time, that's all I can say about it. If someone was truly capable of wielding such power, they would effectively be black holes. They could exert energy onto a point ad infinitum, eventually causing the planet to collapse onto that point. The fourth property, which is the most important point for my criminal profile, is that aura is adhesive, and it also grants cohesive forces to non-aura particles within it as long as the third property is still obeyed. Basically, once you introduce a substance into the aura system, the aura gains increased attraction for that substance."

Flint says, "Does that mean if I throw lightning dust onto you, you'll keep attracting lightning dust until you electrocute yourself?"

"Not quite. Aura, as a fluid, experiences equilibrium. Eventually, the rate that exits will be the same as the rate that enters. But this doesn't help if low amounts are already lethal, and that's what's important here: Poison is extremely deadly against experienced huntsmen due to this interaction. Their large auras can rapidly achieve lethal concentrations of poison from even minute concentrations in the environment."

Gecko says, "If that's the case, all huntsmen should use poison if they get into a fight with each other."

Glass shakes her head. "Terrible idea. Small amounts of poison, if a huntsman were to accidentally scrape it on themselves, would be dangerous. Thus, experienced huntsmen have an intrinsic distaste for poison. On the other hand, the Stalker seems to love it."

"So," says Flint, "the Stalker can't be an experienced huntsman."

"Could be, but that doesn't make sense because the Stalker must also be familiar with another implication and its importance to huntsmen. Since aura is fluid, a sharp enough object can pass through it with ease. A poison dart is a perfect weapon for killing huntsmen, and for someone strong enough to kill 93 huntsmen, you would expect the Stalker to be a huntsman themselves. However, the element of poison makes a huntsman-Stalker unlikely. The Stalker likely has a very weak aura, to spare themselves even if they did get poisoned. This is the contradiction: The Stalker is a knowledgeable huntsman that is terrible at being a huntsman. In my opinion, the Stalker's most likely identity is someone who attended academy for a year at most, got expelled for incompetence on the physical aspect, yet was brilliant on the knowledge aspect. Then, they grew a hatred for huntsmen that compelled them to kill 93 and counting."

Flint grimaces. Too familiar. He looks out the window and says, "Hey, we finally got through the traffic."

Glass says, "Yeah, we did. By the way, it would be disastrous if we lost each other in the crowd, so we should exchange scroll numbers." Glass hands her scroll over to Gecko. "I set my number as my background, and it's not passcode locked. Do what you need."

The three men exchange scroll numbers with Glass.

As they do so, the car passes through a red light, entering Hearth's vibrant Wiretown. Unlike the downtown area, Wiretown lacks flying cars, and the trains go underground. Cable cars go up and down the street, and massive parkades take the place of skyscrapers. Although the line of parkades is boring, they are metallic and shiny. Past the parkades, a colourful crowd of people forms around a series of theaters and geeky paraphernalia shops. Glass drives into one of the few parkades that still has some space—Parkade E—as displayed by the numerous LED signs. She snakes the car 7 stories up, before an open spot finally appears.

Once the car is parked, Glass takes out her scroll. As they exit, she makes a call, which is soon answered with an enthusiastic woman's "Hello!" on the other end.

The men follow Glass down the pedestrian staircase. She says, with more energy than they've heard from her yet, "Hey Viola! I just parked at E. You wanna come here?"

Viola answers, "Yeah, of course! I'll take the cable car right now, so wait by there."

"Okay, I'll be waiting there. See ya!"

"See~you~later!"

They arrive at the bottom of the staircase, where Glass hangs up.

The cable cars in Wiretown are free. As you would expect, this aids in the twenty-something person lines that form, despite the fact that five cable car lanes are active at all times. Although it is difficult to tell from afar, the crowd of people is finely divided into cliques. The seemingly homogeneous blob of people is actually a series of isolated groups that couldn't care less about the others. However, after the team waits for about a minute, one person gets off the cable car who breaks the tradition. A lone woman with purple hair, eyes, and coat darts her eyes around before settling on Glass. She furiously runs through the crowd and traps Glass in a hug.

Glass says, "Waah! Viola, watch it!"

Viola practically crushes Glass in a bear hug, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, I've missed you so, so much, Glassmerous!"

Flint says, "Glassmerous?"

Glass cries, "Viola, that's embarrassing..."

Viola slowly loosens her grip, keeping Glass at arm length. "Are you sure you're okay? These masked men aren't going to shoot you up, right?"

Glass pouts, "Viooola, that's not funny. They're my friends." This time, Glass is the one to pull Viola closer, and she whispers into her ear.

Viola says, "Oh. Okay. I'll try to get along, then." They finally let go. Viola turns to the three men and stretches out her hand. "My name is Viola Vantage. If you're friends with Glassmerous, then you're my friends too, so I hope we'll get along!"

They take turns shaking hands and introducing themselves with admittedly terrible aliases: Lizard Chroma, Gale Male, and Chert Array. By the end, Viola is delivering a blank stare. Glass leans into Flint's ear and whispers, "She's a pianist, not a retard."

Storm says, "Flint and I have business in Faunustown. Is it okay if we meet with you later?"

Viola smiles. "No, I'll ride the cable car with you to Faunustown station. If Lizard and Glassmerous are going to the fancon, I'll be hanging out with them anyway. I want to get to know you guys better. Is that alright?"

Flint and Storm look at each other, both of them shrugging. No reason to refuse, right? Flint nods at Viola.

Viola grabs onto Glass's sleeve, pulling her to the cable car station. Viola shouts, "Now, Operation Ragnarok will commence! The magnificent quintet of Violet Vantage, Glassmerous the Uncostumed, and three random guys shall now attend the Heroes of Helios fancon. To arms!"

Glass stops resisting and allows Violet to drag her away. As the three men give chase, Glass says, "Yes, to arms!"

Viola turns to look at Glass's face as they cut through the line. "Wait Glassmerous, you're smiling. It's so~so cute!"

Glass blushes. "Viooola, that's embarassing."

"Really, I'm glad."

"...Heh."

The five of them receive a few rude stares as they cut all the way to the front of the line, although most of the crowd doesn't seem to pay any attention whatsoever. Viola turns to Flint and says, "I'm done buttering up Glassmerous. Join in on the fun!"

Flint cautiously goes beside Viola as they board the cable car. However, the moment they step on...

"Uwah," cries Viola. "Why are they putting on the chain now?"

The cable car worker, responsible for handling the line, chains the cable car's entrance. He shouts, "Car is full!"

Flint says, "Crap, the others will be waiting a while."

Viola nods as the cable car suddenly starts moving. She hastily grabs a pole for balance and says, "Yeah, but for now, let's talk."

It's a bit difficult for them to hear each other over the wind and the other Heroes of Helios fans as the cable car speeds along. Flint says, "Sure, but I'm not very good at talking. Sorry."

Viola shakes her head. "No, no, that's normal. Everyone has things they are bad and good at. As for you..." Viola leans in and whispers, "Shooting is your strong suit, right?"

Flint says, "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Choose better aliases. I'm a pianist, not a retard."

Flint realizes what she means. He says, "So, you've watched the news."

"Of course I have." She leans back. "But there's no problem. Glass told me to trust you guys, and I trust her. Even if you're not trustworthy, I'll do what she wants. Okay?"

Flint breathes a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

Viola puffs her cheeks. "It's not like I'm doing this for you or anything!"

"Great, just great."

"Anyway, I wanted to thank you guys for getting Glass out of her house. I don't know how you did it, but thank you. Glass wasn't returning any of my calls or messages, and I was worried she was going to miss the fancon this year."

Flint turns to the side and winces. Don't thank the person who lodged her inside in the first place, woman! He faces Viola and says, "No thanks needed."

"Okay." Viola then launches her hand forwards and rubs Flint's bicep. "Huh, you're muscular. What exactly did you do? You got fired last night, so I guess I'm wondering what your job was."

Flint pulls his arm away. He can't tell her the whole story, so he decides to just tell a smaller part of the truth. "Went to Atlas academy, got kicked out right as I started second year. Joined the military as a sniper, with, um..."

It suddenly becomes hard to speak. Nonetheless, he continues, "Lizard, Gale, and I were a sniper team. It was a secret back before it got leaked to the public, but we were in Mistral, protecting Mistrolls from-"

Viola cuts him off, saying, "Oh, so you're a racist too." Her eyes narrow. "I guess that's normal. Scientific folk like Glass say the M-word a lot, and a lot of military people do too. Go on."

Flint says, "Well, uh, we were in Mistral, got shot up and nearly died, then we came back home and found normal jobs. Then, one day, we got framed."

"I see." Viola taps her thighs in a steady beat. "I'm wondering what your relationship to Glass is. She really, really hates the military."

Flint says, "We're partnered for the Stalker investigation. That's all I can tell you." Flint thinks about what he's seen over the past day: The image of Glass's sword comes to mind. He asks, "What does Glass think about huntsmen?"

"Like normal people, she loves them. Always wanted to be one, but failed the entrance exams hard. She even has a custom-made sword, and apparently hid it somewhere."

It's in her car, woman.

Viola continues, "Anyway, I might be wrong, but it doesn't look like you like Glass at all."

"Obviously not."

Viola gives a stern look. "I don't know how much longer you and your friends plan to hang around her, but she's not a bad person. When Glass learned she wasn't going to be a huntress, she decided to pursue detective work. Because it's the most she could do."

That phrase again.

Viola continues, "Take care of her, please. I don't want to see her sad, even though she's tried so hard. It would suck if she decided to stop living her life, just because some sick bastards took her cousins away. She really looked up to them, but she has to move on someday."

Then, Viola grabs Flint by the collar and pulls him down. "One last thing: I don't mind being friends with you, but if anything happens to her, a special place in hell awaits you. You hear me?"

Flint nods.

They decide to exchange scroll numbers, but it doesn't seem like Viola is willing to discuss anything else.

The cable car makes a few stops, including the station by the Superclub Bar. The car empties and fills again and again, until about ten minutes pass. Viola says, "This is Faunustown station. See you."

She waves Flint off. Flint says, "By the way, where's the graveyard?"

Viola cocks her head. After a moment, she points down the street. "Just go there, you can't miss it."

Flint steps off the cable car as people pile in. As he walks towards the graveyard, Flint looks over his shoulder; Viola's cable car is already leaving, and she isn't looking back at him. Flint goes against the rush of fancon attendees, but he proceeds like there is no resistance. Eventually, the crowd dissipates, and he sees a street sign:

"200m: Military Graveyard."

Flint hurries up his pace.

Before long, he arrives at a stone arch. "This is it," he murmurs to himself.

He looks up from the ground, and sees how many there are.

Ten.

Tens.

Hundred.

Hundreds.

Flint takes a deep breath and strolls in.

"What the hell..."

He sneaks a glance at a tombstone, as if looking at one for too long would unleash a curse. At the top is the soldier's name. Right below that is the location of their death: Mistral.

Flint goes further ahead. Name, Mistral. Name, Mistral. Name, Mistral. Did every single soldier here die in Mistral?

He walks further along, but it turns out that the graves end halfway through the allotted space. In the other half is a field.

With hundreds of holes, already dug out and waiting to be filled.

Flint shouts, "Fuck!" He turns back around.

"I...I... should pay my respects. To at least one of them."

To one of them, or to what could have been himself? Or is it both? He stops in front of a random tombstone and reads, "Ken Steel, Mistral."

Then, Flint realizes: Below the location is a third line, finely engraved. He reads, "Even if the sky entombs the tombstone, the stone will still remain. Huh. Even if the sky entombs the tombstone, the stone will still..."

Flint feels his heart race. He races around to see the other tombstones.

"Name, Mistral. Even if... Name, Mistral. Even if... Name, Mistral. Even if... Wait, do they all have that damn line?!"

Flint keeps looking. It confirms his suspicions. He makes a full circle in his efforts and comes back to a stop in front of Ken Steel's grave.

Flint drops to his knees.

"Who engraved this? You don't get to say that!"

The stones won't remain. Ken Steel, whoever they were, died an inglorious death. A forgettable one. The stones won't remain.

Instead, they'll just add more.

Speaking of which, where did they put Maverick? Whether they cremated his body, threw it into the sea, or fed it to dogs, does it really matter? Wherever it is, it's forgettable.

But even so, would it be better if the team died in Mistral? The Stalker is insane. Whoever they are, trying to kill them would be suicide. Would joining these soldiers here be preferable?

After all is done, their own bodies might as well be buried in this graveyard too.

The stones won't remain.

Flint then thinks back to Viola's words. Is it normal to like huntsmen, as Glass does? As far as Flint knows, he would be happier if narcissistic huntsmen took these graves, instead of courageous soldiers.

Flint says, "Maybe... it's better if the Stalker goes free. It's better if the huntsmen go away forever, and for soldiers to actually have value."

Is that the truth?

"Maybe..."

...He wants to believe that he can do something more.


End file.
